


Project Rebirth

by samwise_baggins, Steve-Bucky-Stucky (Chemical30)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Political Animals, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Brainwashing, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Trauma, Failed Medical Procedures, Grief/Mourning, Intersex, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Medical Procedures, Minor Character Death, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Blame, Underage Rape/Non-con, childhood illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2019-07-10 21:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 145,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15958004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwise_baggins/pseuds/samwise_baggins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chemical30/pseuds/Steve-Bucky-Stucky
Summary: Bucky, TJ, and Steve all are considered outside societal norms, but the boys from Brooklyn merely want to live contented, hard working lives. Then, one day, Doctor Erskine proposes to cure their ills in exchange for their military service. Their lives go in directions none of them could ever have dreamed.





	1. Protector from Birth

August 13, 1924:

Sitting outside his parent’s bedroom, playing with his four year old little sister Rosie, he had the old worn raggedy cloth doll and she had a slightly less used wooden and cloth one, James Buchanan Barnes, aged seven, looked up at the wail of an infant. Blinking surprised pale blue eyes, the child known as Bucky clambered to his feet and hurried over to the door, cracking it open to take a peek. He saw the upstairs neighbor woman, Mrs. Slocum, in between Momma’s legs doing something or other, probably _girl stuff_ , while Papa held a bundled crying little thing.

Excitement ran through the little boy and he smiled wide, bouncing on his heels and causing his brunet curls to bounce. “Is it the baby?” he asked breathlessly from the doorway.

Mrs. Slocum looked over at the sound of the little boy’s voice and she breathlessly ordered, still not moving from her position between Momma’s legs, “James, wash your hands in that bowl there.” She gestured to the basin on the dresser.

Nodding, leaving Rosie with her dolls in the other room, Bucky headed over to wash really well. He didn’t want to be scolded for doing a poor job. When finished, he walked over to the neighbor. “I’m clean, ma’am.”

Nodding, Mrs. Slocum praised Winifred Barnes as the woman screamed in pain and pushed. Within a moment, another infant’s wail filled the room as Mrs. Slocum eased the baby up with a soft frown.

Blinking in shock, Bucky’s father, James Barnes senior, held the first infant close and asked, “twins? My God, Winnie, good job!”

Bucky smiled widely and said, “that’s good luck, isn’t it?”

Cutting the umbilical cord, Mrs. Slocum wiped the baby’s skin free of most of the blood and other fluids, making sure the infant’s mouth and nose were clear. The woman still didn’t say anything, frowning softly as she worked.

“What . . . what is it, Jennifer?” Winifred panted, her blue eyes rolling up to look at the other woman with worry in her eyes.

“He is malformed,” Jennifer reported, displaying the baby boy to the man of the house, showing James Sr. the infant she held in her arms. The boy’s right leg was twisted and looked completely wrong, the foot turned inwards and leg almost bowed. The infant continued to wail, his little arms flailing as the woman held him out for inspection.

James frowned and shook his head. “There are things they can do for that, yes?” He looked to his wife. “It’s his leg, Winnie.”

“Let me see?” Bucky begged, trying to get a look at the infant the woman held.

Looking down at Bucky, Jennifer knelt down to Bucky’s level to let him look at the infant she held, though she looked up at James Sr. as she said, “surgeries, yes, but very few take.”

“Oh! He’s so tiny and perfect!” Bucky cooed, reaching out to stroke a finger down the boy’s cheek. “Look, Momma! Another boy!”

Winnie attempted to look but couldn’t see much due to the others being at the foot of the bed, she gave up after a moment and looked up to meet her husband’s eyes. “James? How bad is it?”

“Clubbed foot,” James stated grimly. “And right up the leg, too. He’ll need something to help him walk or he’ll be crippled in a chair.”

Blinking groggily, Winnie said softly, “but . . . his lungs sound so _strong_?” The woman’s pale skin sheened with a thin layer of sweat. The infant continued to cry and wail.

“We’re not gonna get rid of him like a puppy? Drown the lame one? Charlie’s Papa did that past June when his dog had a runt!” Bucky put a hand protectively over the infant’s chest, looking defiant. As soon as Bucky put his hand on the infant’s chest, the baby stopped wailing and blinked pale eyes up at his older brother, the cries fading off into babbling noises.

Smiling wide, Bucky said, “he’s so pretty!”

James sighed and shook his head, “of course we aren’t drowning the baby, Bucky. We’ll figure something out for him. It’s not as if he’ll be walking for the next couple of years. And he’ll have his twin to lean on, too. See? Isn't she a doll?” The man leaned down so Bucky could see his new sister, which he gazed on in rapt wonder, still keeping a hand on the boy’s chest and tummy.

“What are their names, Winnie, James? Have you decided, yet?” Jennifer asked, looking between the mother and father, still easily holding the boy with the clubbed foot in her arms.

“James, we talked of a few, yes? Rebecca for a girl . . . and did you pick between the boy names?” Winnifred asked.

“I like Thomas, for your father, my dear,” James smiled.

“He can be Thomas James, so it’s for Pop-pop and me!” Bucky offered, grinning. “And it can be Rebecca Rose.”

Laughing tiredly, Winifred smiled and looked to her husband, “well, James? Your son has spoken.”

Smiling back at his wife, James nodded. “Agreed. They can be named for their older siblings as well. Thomas James and Rebecca Rose. Jennifer, you did wonderfully. We’ll take the infants out in a moment. Winnie, would you like to see and touch and feed then let Jennifer clean you up?”

“Yes, please?” Winifred nodded, accepting Thomas as Jennifer set the boy in her arms. Winifred looked down at Thomas and stroked the baby’s cheek, her eyes falling down to the malformed leg. “It’s one of the worst I’ve seen, James . . .” she said softly.

“But, Momma, he’s beautiful,” Bucky claimed, smiling happily. “And he’s just little. I’ve seen polio boys and girls worse off. We can help him! I can . . . I promise!”

“I know you will, Bucky, you’re a good big brother,” Winnie smiled at her eldest son as she let Thomas begin to feed off her breast.

“Should I take the baby once you’re done, Momma, so you can feed Becca, too?” Bucky offered.

Winifred agreed, letting Thomas feed for several minutes before she carefully transferred the infant to Bucky’s waiting arms, “be gentle with him, Bucky . . .” Winifred said, though she didn’t expect Bucky to be rough or drop Thomas.

Nodding, Bucky leaned his head down and kissed the baby’s forehead. “Hello, little one. I’m your brother, Bucky. I’m going to protect you and teach you and be here always.”

With a wide smile for Bucky’s words, James handed over the little girl to his wife, kissing Winifred’s cheek when he did so. “So proud of you, my dear. _Two_.”

Keeping her voice low to avoid Bucky hearing, Winifred met James’ eyes and asked, “how are we going to afford his care, James?” She started to feed Rebecca.

“We’ll think of something, my dear.” Glancing over at Bucky with sad eyes, her husband said, “we always do.” James stroked the little girl’s bald head and kissed his wife’s forehead again, still watching his two sons.

**************

September 30, 1930:

“Bucky! Wait for me!” Thomas Barnes, known to his family as _‘TJ,’_ called as he hobbled after his brother using a pair of wooden crutches. Despite a few surgeries and other various methods to try to correct his malformity, TJ’s clubfoot hadn’t been healed and the boy, six years by then, still struggled to walk, relying on a pair of old crutches to move around, dragging the twisted, malformed leg.

Stopping dead in his tracks, the thirteen year old boy turned and smiled, holding out his hand to place behind his younger brother’s curly hair once TJ had caught up to the athletic older boy. “How’s it feeling, Teej? Need to be carried piggyback?”

Shaking his head, TJ looked down at his twisted right foot and bowed leg and then back up at his older brother, “it’s alright . . . doesn’t hurt too bad. Don’t wantcha havin’ to carry me every day . . .” For as long as TJ could remember, Bucky had always been there, Bucky had taken over as _minder_ for TJ, leaving Rosie and Becca at home with Momma.

Stroking the soft curls, Bucky said, “but if you need to, you’ll tell me, all right? I don’t want you too tired to . . .”

A voice seemed to cut across Bucky’s words, coming from a nearby alley. “Hold him down. I’ll get it!”

“Get off!” Another boy’s voice called back, tone harsh and filled with rage, “two against one ain’t exactly fair, you spineless cowards!”

“Bucky?” TJ blinked, tilting his head slightly as he looked up at his brother with his naturally wide eyes.

“Two against one _is_ unfair. You stay in the alleyway entrance. I’ll go help out.” Bucky headed for the alley and looked down it to see what was happening.

In the alley, Bucky could see three boys fighting, well, it was more like two ganging up on one a lot smaller. The smaller boy had a shock of bright blond hair and delicate facial features that were stained with bright red blood. The blond boy shouted as one of the larger boys tried to pin him, “get your grubby hands off me!” He tried swinging his tiny fists, attempting to hit one of his attackers.

Bucky nodded and looked down at TJ. “Since we’re gonna save that little boy, you can help. I’ll chase them this way, you trip them on their way past. Hide behind those bins there.”

“You want me to _trip_ ‘em? Really?” TJ looked excited at being able to help someone else and show those bullies a thing or two.

Nodding, Bucky said, “only ‘cause we’re saving a littler boy being ganged up on.” Bucky turned and hurried into the ally and grabbed the bigged boy off the blond. “Hey, two on one’s bad sport! C’mon, go for me, you sissy!” He tossed the boy away from the blond a bit.

With one boy tossed away and the one trying to pin him distracted, the blond punched the bigger boy hard in the gut, making him double over. The boy that Bucky had yanked away let out a growl and tried to punch the athletic thirteen year old. Prepared to be rushed, Bucky slammed the boy in the stomach then in the nose with quick fists, his father having taught him some of the art of boxing. “Ready?” he called loudly then pushed the boy hard towards the alleyway entrance.

No longer having an easy target to pick on, the bully Bucky pushed ran off but suddenly tripped over TJ’s crutch which darted out before he could even see it, sending the bully sprawling to the hard pavement and skinning his hands and knees. The remaining boy tried to hit the little blond again, ignoring his pal to angrily finish beating on the kid who defied him.

The blond ducked the first hit and let out a shout as he lowered his thin shoulder and charged full force into the boy’s abdomen.

With a loud cry of pain and shock, the bully tumbled backwards onto the hard pavement, bumping his tailbone painfully. He rolled away and pushed to his feet, limping towards the exit of the alley. TJ pushed out his crutch again just as the second boy made it to the end of the alley, effectively tripping the already limping boy who fell on top of his friend. Both boys scrambled and crawled until they got away.

Grinning, Bucky offered a hand up to the blond as he called back, “How’d it go, Teej? You okay?”

The blond took the offered hand and looked over at the smaller, younger boy on crutches at the entryway of the alleyway.

“See that, Buck? I did that!” TJ announced happily with a wide smile on his features.

“Yeah, I saw. Hey, you okay, pal? I’m Bucky and that’s my brother, TJ.” Bucky grinned at the blond, though his eyes studied the small boy in concern. “C’mon down, Teej, and meet him.”

“Steve,” the blond introduced himself, wiping his palms down on his dirty brown trousers, “and, thanks for that . . . though, I had ‘em on the ropes.”

TJ hobbled down on his crutches, looking up at Bucky and Steve with a wide, excited grin, “I can’t wait to tell Papa that I took out some bullies!”

Bucky laughed, “just make sure to tell him the whole thing, not just that you fought some bullies. He’ll have my skin if he thought I put you in a bad way, Teej. Hey, Stevie. Wanna come to our place to clean up a bit? We live just one more block down.”

Touching his palm to the spot on his eyebrow where one of the bullies’ fists had split it open, Steve pulled it back with a small wince and looked down at the blood on his hand. Looking at Bucky, then TJ, then back to Bucky, Steve nodded, “sure, thanks. That’s real nice of ya.” He bent down to pick up a bronze pocket watch off the ground and slipped it back into the pocket of his trousers.

Turning and leading both smaller boys from the alley, walking at a pace his own brother could meet, Bucky asked, “so, Stevie, how old are ya? I’m thirteen and TJ’s six.” He figured the kid was probably around eight he was so tiny.

“Twelve,” Steve informed, glancing up at Bucky and, before the older boy could say anything, the blond pointed one boney finger at the brunet, “and, I know I’m small, don’t need ta say it, but I’m twelve. Born July fourth, nineteen-eighteen!”

Nodding, studying the feisty kid, Bucky gave Steve a crooked grin and said, “really? I’m March ten, nineteen seventeen. And Teej, tell Stevie when you were born.”

Blinking wide eyes at something in his hand, TJ seemed to miss what his brother asked him, having even stopped moving to focus all his attention on whatever he held.

Tilting his head, the smile slipping a bit, Bucky called, “yo, Teej? You okay? Hey, Stevie, you’re closer. Touch his curls. It wakes him up.”

Looking at Bucky with surprise on his features, Steve reached out a hand that seemed a bit too large for such a tiny boy and stroked his fingers through TJ’s soft curls. “TJ? You alright, pal?”

Blinking, TJ looked over at Bucky and lifted one hand, letting his underarms take all his weight on the crutches for the moment. “My tooth fell out!” And, surely enough, there was a small gap where one of his front bottom teeth was supposed to be.

Shocked, Bucky sprinted to his baby brother and knelt down, using gentle fingers to grasp the little boys cheeks and keep his mouth open. “Did one of those thugs hit you, Teej? Does it hurt? I don’t see no blood.”

“Not uh,” TJ mumbled through his open mouth, “it was wigglin’ and it came out!” He kept his hand out, holding the tiny baby tooth.

Delight filled Bucky’s eyes and he said, “gee, Teej, that means you’re not a baby anymore. Now you’re gonna lose those tiny teeth and get your big kid teeth! Good job!”

Grinning, his tongue playing with the odd gap where a tooth should be, TJ said, “really? I’m gonna be big like you, Buck? You mean it?”

“Sure are, Teej. Ain’t I right, Stevie?” Bucky asked, as if the blond had always been one of their friends.

“Probably gonna be bigger than those mean bullies,” Steve agreed enthusiastically with a nod, “and be able to help all the little guys like me!” The blond offered a real smile, despite the pain of the expression tugging on his swelling lip.

“The ones who don’t already got ‘em on the ropes, like you, right?” Bucky grinned. “C’mon, let’ go get that lip seen to. Teej, wanna lead us so you can show Momma the tooth?”

“Yeah!” TJ nodded, slipping the tooth into his pocket and gripping his crutches once more before hobbling in front of the two other boys, leading them back in the direction of their home.

Steve started walking after TJ, a few steps behind the younger boy, and glanced up at the tall, well-built thirteen year old, “your Momma ain’t gonna be sore on you when he tells her he tripped some bullies, will she?”

“Yeah, she will, until she sees the nifty guy we were trying to save,” Bucky winked. “Then she’ll fall in love and it’ll be fine. ‘Specially how TJ ain’t hurt at all.”

Nodding, Steve looked ahead of him at the little boy and then back up at Bucky, “what happened to him, if ya don’t mind me askin’? Get in some kinda wreck? Don’t look like Polio.”

“He was born that way,” Bucky answered honestly. “Called clubfoot. Messed up his foot and up his leg. And we’ve tried doctors, and some tried surgery, and nothing’s gone right yet. But Papa says we just gotta find the right doctor. He gets by, though. Strong everywhere else.”

“Yeah, seems like a swell kid,” Steve replied, looking up as TJ stopped in front of a tenement building. Steve looked at the stairs that the crippled boy had stopped in front of and wondered just how TJ would make it up.

Bucky grinned. “Need a lift, Teej? Or tired enough to go on your bottom backwards? Or you gonna climb ‘em?” He nodded to Steve as if to say _‘watch this.’_

“I can do ‘em today, Buck, I’m a big kid now, ‘member?” TJ grinned, handing off his crutches to Bucky and then proceeding to climb up the flights of stairs, using a odd sort of crawl that seemed to work just the way TJ needed it to as the boy made it up the first flight and then turned to go up the next.

“How many floors you up?” Steve asked, an awed expression on his features as he watched TJ work around his disability to make it up the stairs.

“Three,” Bucky laughed. “When you aren’t as strong or big as other people, you adapt, huh?” He winked and began following his brother, happily carrying the crutches. “That watch you nearly got nicked, is it okay? I shoulda asked earlier.”

Pulling it out as he climbed up the metal stairs, Steve looked down at the bronze pocket watch and turned it in his hands to closely examine it. Bucky could see the initials, _‘J.R.’_ engraved into the fine metal. “Yeah, it’s alright. It was my Pops’, he was in the Army, 107th.”

“The 107th? So was my Papa!” Bucky grinned wider. “That’s great! Maybe they know each other.”

“Maybe they _knew_ each other. My Pops didn’t make it back, died right before I was born,” Steve shrugged and slipped the watch into his pocket, looking up to see TJ sitting at the landing of the third floor.

The six year old grinned at his brother, panting a bit, “I did it! See, Buck? Made it up all the way, all by myself!”

“Yeah, no way are you a baby anymore! When we catch up you can let us in the house, right?” Bucky asked, following just behind Steve.

Nodding, TJ grabbed the railing and hoisted himself up, leaning heavily on the rickety metal, his top half almost hanging off.

“Thomas!” A woman gasped from one of the apartments before rushing over to pull the little boy off, making TJ giggle, “where is - - Bucky! Why were you letting him hang off the railing!” The woman, who had long brunette curls pulled back into a braid and the same pale blue eyes as both boys started checking over her youngest child, “and where are your crutches?” Winifred Barnes seemed a little frazzled as she didn’t even see or realize Bucky carried them.

“I was gonna stop him as he only just caught on the rail, Momma, but you ran over before I got the chance,” Bucky explained, “and I got his crutches because he was climbing the steps all by himself. Show her, Teej, you ain’t a baby anymore!”

“Yeah, Momma, look!” TJ thrust his tiny fist into his pocket and pulled out the tooth to proudly show to his mother, “my tooth fell out!”

Winnie sighed softly, looking down at the tooth in her son’s hand and then back up at TJ’s face. She cupped TJ’s cheeks and dropped a kiss to his forehead, “no more hanging off rails, okay? Big boys don’t hang off rails.”

Bucky stopped next to his mother and brother, handing the crutches off to TJ. “Momma, TJ and I saved another boy who was being robbed. It was only two bigger boys, but we stopped ‘em, all three of us. This is Steve.”

“Pleasure to meet ya, ma’am,” Steve offered the cleaner of his two hands to the woman.

Eyes widening at the state of the boy, Winnie gasped and said, “my God, come in! We have to tend those scrapes.” Instead of simply shaking Steve’s hand, she took it and literally dragged the blond into the small apartment that housed the large family, Steve giving Bucky a surprised look as she dragged him off.

Laughing at the boy’s look, Bucky knelt and grabbed the crutches, offering a piggyback to TJ. “No matter how big you get, I’ll be able to give you a lift, ‘kay?”

Grinning happily, TJ climbed up onto his brother’s back and wrapped his thin arms around Bucky’s neck, “do I hafta go to the doctor’s tomorrow, Buck?” TJ asked, laying his chin on Bucky’s shoulder, “I don’t wanna go. They cut me open and make my leg hurt.”

“If I could, I’d never let another doctor cut you open, ever, Teej. But it’s up to Papa and Momma. But while you’re hurting, Momma lets you stay with Mrs. Slocum. Maybe her grandson will be there to play with?”

Scrunching up his nose, TJ pouted, “but, Jeffrey stinks. He farts and then laughs ‘bout it and it stinks. And he says I don’t walk right.”

Sighing, Bucky carried TJ over to the kitchen to settle in his cushioned chair. “I don’t know any other boys who don’t go to school, Teej, or they could come over.” He stroked his brother’s curls.

“Becca’s here,” TJ replied, smiling up at his brother. He opened his palm again and showed his brother his tooth, “what should I do with it, Buck?”

“Well, if you let Momma have it for her memory box, she gives you a whole penny for it, Teej. Will you?” Bucky grinned and stroked his brother’s hair again.

Grinning widely, TJ nodded, “I wanna penny!”

“She only pays for the first, so that’s a good choice.” Bucky looked over at his mother tending Steve. “Will he live, Momma?” he laughed.

“Just barely,” Winifred teased, cleaning up the last of Steve’s scrapes.

“But, Momma, he had ‘em on the ropes. We just joined the fun ‘cause there were two of ‘em, both my size.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve huffed, flushing a bit as he gave Bucky a grin, “don’t gotta be a jerk ‘bout it.”

“And so I had TJ hide behind the trash bins at the alley entrance and got ‘em to lay off Steve. Then I pushed ‘em TJ’s way so he could trip ‘em and teach them manners.” Bucky looked proud of the little scuffle.

“James Barnes, you included TJ in on a brawl?” Winnie put her hands on her hips as she turned towards her eldest son.

“Yeah!” TJ beamed happily, “shoulda seen me, Momma!”

“Not in the least,” Bucky countered. “It wasn’t a brawl, Momma. We were helping Steve. Like I said, those boys were _my_ size and look at him!”

“Hey!” Steve narrowed his eyes defiantly.

Bucky shook his head, “ _And_ , they were mostly winded anyway from Stevie. He’s got lightnin’ fists!”

Becca walked from the bedroom she shared with Rose and TJ. She tilted her head and asked, “who’s he?” Smiling widely at Steve, displaying three missing or half grown-in teeth, the six year old battered her lashes.

“This is Steve! He’s Bucky and my friend! I helped him beat up bullies!” TJ announced proudly and then displayed his tooth to his twin, “I lost a tooth, too, Becca! Look!”

Rose Barnes came in the front door, having been using the shared restroom for that floor, and blinked at the sight of someone unfamiliar in their home. Rose Barnes, for only being ten, was already turning out to be just as pretty as her mother with long brown hair that curled around her shoulders and large blue eyes. “Who’s the new fella? Pick up another stray?” Rose teased her older brother who had a bad habit of bringing home injured animals.

“Not a stray,” Bucky laughed. “I think he’s gonna be my new best friend, since all of you wanna tease him. This is Steve and he’s born on July fourth. He’s twelve, just behind me.”

The front door opened and James called out, “Home again, my dear. How’s my family?”

“Papa!” TJ called before anyone else could answer, “I helped Steve and Bucky beat up bullies and I lost a tooth!”

“You helped who?” James stopped at the first unfamiliar part of the story. “Who is Steve, baby?”

“Steve is Bucky’s best friend!” TJ reported with a wide grin.

Steve smiled at James Sr. and offered his hand, “Steve Rogers, Sir, your sons helped me when two other boys were tryin’ to steal my father’s pocket watch.”

“Ah, well, alright,” James blinked, taking the oddly large hand and shaking it. “And where are you from, Steve? This building?”

“No, Sir,” Steve shook his head, “I live with my Mama a few blocks away.”

“Papa! I lost a tooth!” TJ repeated, holding up his hand to show his father his newly lost tooth.

Kneeling down and capturing the tiny hand between his larger ones, James studied the tooth carefully. “And this came from you? You didn’t just borrow one of Becca’s?” he asked, sounding quite serious and impressed.

“Not uh! It’s mine, Papa!” TJ grinned and displayed the gap proudly, “and, I climbed up the stairs all by myself, too!”

“Did you? Up three whole flights?” James nodded sagely and said, “well, I think that’s very important. Did you tell Momma?”

“Uh huh, but she was sore at me for hangin’ over the railing. I didn’t mean to, but I pulled myself up,” TJ replied.

“Well, that railing is older than you and not very strong, not like you,” James sighed. “Momma’s afraid it will break and you’ll tumble down three whole flights and land on some nice elderly lady. We wouldn’t want the neighbors thinking we’re throwing children at them, would we?” The man continued to kneel down in front of his small son.

Giggling, TJ shook his head, “no, Papa, we wouldn’t. Bucky says I get a whole penny for my tooth!”

“Well, yes, it’s a tradition in this family that Momma collects the first tooth for her memory box, and she’ll pay a whole penny for it. Why don’t you,” Jame tucked the tooth carefully into TJ’s palm, “go see if Momma still wants to buy teeth?”

Winifred had already pulled a penny out of the very small jam jar of change they kept and walked over to TJ and James. She plucked the tooth out of TJ’s hand and examined it as one might examine a prized jewel, bringing another giggle from TJ. “Yes,” Winnie nodded sharply, though a smile tugged on her lips, “I think this will do for my collection. Here you go, Sir,” she placed the shiny penny in TJ’s hand, “a penny for your tooth.”

Gasping, TJ looked down at the penny and then up at his parents and then at Bucky, “Buck! Look! It’s a penny!”

“That’s a lot of money, Teej. Don’t wanna lose it. Know that cigar box Papa gave you for your small things? Why don’t you put it in there?” Bucky ruffled TJ’s hair, looking proud.

TJ nodded, “okay!”

While TJ got up, using his crutches, Winnie looked back at Bucky and Steve, “Bucky, is your friend staying for dinner?”

Bucky turned and smiled at Steve. “Does your Momma have a telephone, Stevie?”

Steve shook his head, “nah, and I should get goin’ anyways. She’s expectin’ me for supper.”

“Want me to come to your place and meet her?” Bucky asked, bouncing on his feet slightly. The boy always felt so full of energy, always moving. His teacher bemoaned the fact that he could never stay still.

“Sure, she’d like that. She says I gotta make more friends,” Steve laughed.

“Especially ones who don’t mind if you’re a little . . . blond?” Bucky teased.

“Ha, ha,” Steve commented dryly and turned his smile on everyone else in the room, “it was really nice to meet all of you.”

Winnie nodded and grinned, “it was nice to meet you, Steve.”

“Momma, Papa, I’ll be back soon. Let Teej know I’ll help him with his bath if he needs me to.” Bucky tossed a wave at his family and turned for the door. “C’mon, Stevie. Show me where you live so we can be best friends.”

Nodding, Steve waved at the remaining Barnes members in the room before following Bucky out of the small apartment. As they walked down the stairs, Steve commented, “you got a real nice family, Bucky.”

“Yeah, I seen other families and I think I got the best one ‘round,” Bucky agreed. “Especially my TJ. He’s the best brother. You got brothers or sisters, Stevie?” He turned his head to look at the other boy as they walked down the three flights of steps side by side.

“Nah, I’m the only child, my Pops died before I was born and my Mama never met anyone else,” Steve replied, kicking a rock on the ground; his shoes looked to be a few sizes too big. “And, TJ seems like a real good kid. Doesn’t let anyone or anything get in his way.”

Grinning down at Steve, Bucky said, “I got to hold him when he was born. Even before Papa did. He was so tiny.”

“It’s nice that your family doesn’t treat him off just ‘cause of his leg,” Steve smiled and looked up at Bucky as he stuffed his fists into the pocket of his trousers. “You’re a good brother, Bucky.”

“Well, we figure no one else’ll treat him fair, so we should, but not like a cripple, ‘cause he needs to learn to be strong and make his way. And thanks, Steve. I try to be.” After a few steps in the right direction on the sidewalk, Bucky asked, “what’s your Momma like? She the screaming kind?”

“Nah, my Mama is the best,” Steve grinned brightly, “she’s a nurse and helps take care of people. She’s an angel, my Mama. Only time she gets sore with me is when I get into pointless fights . . . but, I don’t see ‘em as pointless, ya know? Like last week, these fellas were tormenting some poor dog with three legs and one eye, pokin’ him with a stick.”

“Well, then you gotta save the poor animal, right?” Bucky asked, looking enthralled by the seeming adventure of the other boy.

“Exactly!” Steve nodded, happy that Bucky agreed with him, “couldn’t let ‘em get away with tormenting a dog, that ain’t right. So, I grabbed a stick and smacked them with it, got a few nice welts in.” Steve looked proud of the accomplishment.

Nodding, Bucky said, “well, good! Can’t let ‘em pick on something weaker, right?” He threw his arm around Steve’s thin shoulders and said, “and when we’re even bigger, we’ll be able to stop even bigger bullies.”

“You an’ me,” Steve laughed, feeling comfortable with the tall brunet already, as if they’d known each other for years. “We’re gonna be good friends, I can already tell.”

Stopping in front of a tenement house because his new companion did, Bucky looked up at the building and asked, “this the place, Stevie? You live not so far from me.”

Steve nodded, glancing up at the tall tenement house, squinting his blue eyes against the sun. “Yup, this is where me and my Mama live. Up this way,” Steve gestured for Bucky to follow him before he lead his new friend up the rickety steps. He opened a door on the fourth floor without knocking, calling, “Mama! I’m home and I brought a friend for ya to meet!”

The door led straight into the kitchenette, which was part of a larger room with a small table, three chairs, and a standing cupboard with a sheet draped over it for a pantry. A door led into the small general purpose room from which Sarah’s bedroom branched off by another door. There was a very small room for Steve, possibly a room meant for storage or something but fit the little boy perfectly for the moment. From Steve’s small room came Sarah’s voice, “in here, Sweetheart. Putting away the laundry.”

Grinning at Bucky, the small twelve year old lead the taller boy through the small apartment towards the tiny bedroom. Steve’s bedroom, if one could even call it that, barely fit a small bed pushed up to one side and a small set of drawers to house his clothing, the top of the drawers displaying a picture of a rather good looking man in an Army uniform among other old photographs. However, perhaps the most shocking, was the countless hand-drawn charcoal images tacked up onto the walls, covering almost every inch of wall space; there were drawings from the Brooklyn Bridge to images that matched the woman currently putting away laundry in the room, all very well done: as good as any professional selling art at Coney Island.

“Hey, Mama,” Steve greeted, walking directly up to Sarah Rogers and kissing her cheek, “I wantcha to meet my new friend. His name’s James Barnes.” Steve knew his mother would see the new bruises and cuts on his face but she’d also see that they’d already been tended.

Reaching up to gently move the boy’s chin side to side, Sarah sighed and said, “so, how many and what reason this time, Steve?” She didn’t greet Bucky right off.

“Two boys, Mama, and this time they jumped me, I swear! I was jus’ walkin’ home mindin’ my own business and they wanted some money, I guess,” Steve shrugged his boney shoulders before continuing, “they found Pop’s watch and wanted that. I couldn’t let ‘em take it!”

Nodding, Sarah sighed, “and I suppose your new friend helped you out?” She turned her eyes on Bucky and said, “good afternoon, James. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Mrs. Rogers.”

“Ma’am,” Bucky said.

Looking at his mother, Steve nodded, “yes, Mama, Bucky and his little brother TJ helped me out.”

Once Steve answered his mother’s question, the friendly brunet smiled wide and continued on, “It’s really nice to meet you, Ma’am. Me and my brother live two blocks down.”

“Are you staying for supper, James?” Sarah went on, turning to finish putting folded shirts and pants in the rickety dresser. When finished, she stepped past the boys, listening to Bucky.

“No, ma’am. I’m expected back. But thank you. We’d asked Steve to stay, but he said he had to get home, too.” Bucky grinned at bring put in the same position Steve had just moments before.

Looking up at Bucky, Steve smiled and said, “see ya around, Bucky?”

Sarah smiled wider, “well, you and your brother are welcome here anytime, James.”

“Thanks, and sure will, Stevie. We gonna see each other in school this year?” He glanced over the drawings, curious and wanting to study them but knowing he couldn’t stay.

“I think so,” Steve nodded, giving Bucky another smile. “Depends if I get real sick or anything, but I’ve been gettin’ better.”

Turning his grin to Steve, Bucky nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, anyone who can take on two guys twice his size must be gettin’ better, huh?” He grinned wide and winked. “I’ll see myself out. Night, Ma’am. Night, Stevie.” And the enthusiastic brunet was out the door before they could stop him, sprinting all the way home, stomach rumbling in complaint.

**************

January 8, 1931:

Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers and hunching his shoulders to prepare himself against the cold winter air that would cut through his thin body, Steve trotted down the steps of the hospital, heading towards the front door. He had needed to talk to his mother but she’d quickly shooed him away, not wanting Steve to catch anything. Just as he wrapped his bony fingers around the handle of the door, Steve blinked and tilted his head as he looked at the familiar form of Bucky Barnes, sitting hunched over on one of the benches lining the hallway.

“Bucky?” Steve called, sounding worried. Had something happened to TJ? Or Becca or Rosie? Ever since they’d met a few months before, Steve and Bucky had been nearly inseparable, and with Bucky came TJ . . . not that Steve minded in the least; TJ was a swell boy and Steve liked being around the pair of them.

Glancing up, Bucky lifted his left hand to scrub at his eyes with the back of the wrist, blotting away tears. “Hey, Stevie! You okay? You’re not sick or anything?”

“Nah, Bucky, I’m fine . . .” Steve frowned softly, standing in front of the brunet, noticing the tears right away. “Buck? What is it? Someone sick or somethin’?” Steve felt his heart seize at the thought that little TJ could be ill, or any of Bucky’s siblings really. In fact, all of the Barnes’ had been nothing but nice to Steve since they’d met him, and Steve didn’t want anything bad to happen to any of them.

“Papa decided TJ needed to get his leg messed with again. But the doctors ain’t ever able to help, an’ this time’s gonna be the same, I know.” Bucky shook his head, voice cracking in distress. “All it’s gonna do is make TJ walk worse and hurt more and cost us a lot of money besides. Why can’t they just leave him alone?”

“Awe, Buck,” Steve slipped into the spot next to his friend and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You . . . maybe this time will be different and they’ll be able to help TJ’s leg?” Steve didn’t like the idea of TJ being put through useless surgeries when the boy seemed to adapt well with his disability.

Bucky shook his head, “I don’t think so. I think there ain’t nothing doctors can do for Clubfoot. They’re just gonna keep messing with him to get Papa to pay money is all. Sometimes I think doctors are just in it for the money.” Bucky leaned a bit closer, shoulder touching Steve’s.

“What are they tryin’ to do to fix it?” Steve asked, letting the larger boy lean on him. “They tryin’ to straighten it out or somethin?”

“I guess,” Bucky sighed, looking miserable and frustrated. “They never tell me. I’m just a kid and _‘won’t understand such grown up things.’_ Stupid doctors. And Papa falls for it every time.”

“You just wish they’d accept TJ for what he is, huh?” Steve said softly, his lips right over Bucky’s ear so they didn’t run the chance of anyone else overhearing the statement. Though, he did wonder where the rest of the family was . . . Bucky couldn’t be the only one there, right?

“I wish they’d just accept TJ is a great guy without having to run an’ jump an’ stuff. I wish the cops’d arrest the stupid doctors for trying to make people give them money for surgeries that don’t work. Stop torturing my baby!” Bucky growled the last, eyes narrowed as he watched a doctor come from a room down the hall and stop to flirt with a pretty nurse.

Sighing, Steve nodded. It hadn’t taken long to see that Bucky truly thought of TJ as _his_ baby, telling Steve many times how _he’d_ been the first one of the family to hold TJ. “Are you the only one here, Buck?” Steve asked softly, blue eyes sympathetic.

“Momma’s home with the girls and Papa’s at work. I had to bring TJ here for the surgery. Papa’s gonna stop by after his shift is done.” Bucky sighed and shook his head. “And Teej was so scared. He _cried_ , Stevie. _Teej_ cried.” Bucky turned his face and buried it in Steve’s bony, small shoulder.

Reaching around with his other hand, Steve stroked Bucky’s temple and let his friend burrow, knowing Bucky needed that comfort. “How long is TJ gonna be in for?” Steve prepared to wait however long Bucky needed him to.

“We’ve been here all day,” Bucky whispered into his friend’s shoulder. “Teej should be done by now but no one’s come to tell me anythin’.”

“Come on,” Steve said, standing up and grabbing Bucky’s hand to tug the older boy to his feet, “we can get my Mama to ask on his condition and see if you can see ‘im yet.”

Following his friend, Bucky scrubbed at his eyes again. He sniffled a bit then coughed to clear his throat. “Where we goin’, Stevie?”

“My Mama works here, remember?” Steve said over his shoulder, still holding Bucky’s hand, as he walked back up the steps into the ward that his mother worked in. Seeing her come out of a patient's room, Steve called out, “Mama!”

Vivid blue eyes widening, Sarah scolded “Steven Grant Rogers. I told you to get home! You shouldn’t be on this ward with your lungs.”

“Yeah, but, Mama, Teej’s been in surgery all day and should be done but no one’s comin’ to tell Bucky anything. We were hopin’ you could see where Teej is at?” Steve said, meeting his mother’s eyes, “Bucky’s real worried and Teej will be mighty scared if he wakes up and no one’s there.”

Letting out a sigh, Sarah wiped her hands down her uniform apron and hurried the boys from the tuberculosis ward. “Very well, but most of the time, doctors don’t allow children in the wards. Come along. Surgery, on his leg?” she asked as she walked briskly towards another wing.

Bucky followed easily on his long legs. “Yes, ma’am. For his clubfoot.”

“Bucky don’t think there is much doctors can do to fix it, Mama, but they keep puttin’ TJ through surgeries,” Steve said in a low voice so only Bucky and Sarah could hear.

“Doesn’t think,” Sarah corrected her son’s grammar automatically, second nature by then. “Sometimes the doctors ask if they can do new, experimental surgery on patients, but . . .” she sighed, “I hate the idea of putting children through such surgeries unless it’s a lifesaving technique. Consenting adults should be the only ones experimented on.” The nurse stopped at the surgical ward administration area and asked a passing nurse, “Betty Lou? Is there a small boy, maybe six years old, brunette with big blue eyes, clubfoot surgery, on this floor?”

Betty Lou, a woman with blond hair and brown eyes, wearing the same uniform as Sarah, looked at her fellow nurse and then over at the two boys. Moving her eyes back to Sarah, Betty Lou nodded, “Thomas, yes, he’d been out of surgery for almost a hour, now. He should be wakin’ up soon.” She pointed down the hall, to the third door on the right. “Such a sweet little thing, shame that the poor darlin’ has to go through this.”

Nodding, Sarah said, “I couldn’t agree more. He’s a friend of my Stevie’s. His brother, James, has been waiting all day for news and must have been overlooked.” Sarah turned the two boys towards the proper room and hurried them down to it.

When Sarah opened the door, Steve blinked at the sight of TJ in the hospital bed, looking even smaller and more delicate than he did on an average day. The six year old seemed to be slowly waking up, if the twitching of his features and fingers were anything to go by. Steve’s eyes trailed down the little boy’s body, stopping at the thick bandaging that wrapped around TJ’s right foot and leg. Steve was by no means a doctor, but the limb still looked twisted and not much different from before . . . Steve hoped that was just the bandaging.

Bucky peeked in and asked, softly, “can I go in to him, please, ma’am?” He looked up at Sarah who sighed and nodded. Swallowing, the brunet pre-teen stepped slowly into the room, closer and closer to the hospital bed with the too-small figure ensconced in white sheets and blanket. “TJ?” Bucky whispered, “Teej, baby, Bucky’s here.”

Pale eyes sluggishly opening, TJ blinked slowly up at his older brother, “Buck?” He croaked softly.

“Hey, baby,” Bucky smiled and reached out to carefully stroke his brother’s cheek. “Good to see you waking up at last. Thought you’d sleep the next week out.”

“It . . . better . . . Buck?” TJ asked, his words slurring together a bit as he came off the drugs.

Glancing over the twisted, bandaged leg, Bucky frowned fiercely and honestly said, “nope. Looks worse to me, but I’m just a kid. But it certainly ain’t better yet. But you know Papa.” Bucky stroked again, “he’ll keep lookin’.”

At that TJ started to cry again, “I don’t want ‘im to keep lookin’!” The little boy sniffled and looked up at Bucky, “please, Buck . . . don’t let ‘em cut me open ‘gain. It hurts!”

Bucky climbed into the bed, very careful of TJ’s leg, and settled on his good side, arm going around TJ and pulling him into a hug. “I’d stop him if I could, baby. You know that.” He nuzzled TJ’s temple. “I hate that you’re hurtin’.”

“Don’t want no more surgeries!” TJ insisted again, his head falling to Bucky’s shoulder. “I don’t care that I got a crippled foot! I don’t wanna be cut open anymore!”

Nodding, Bucky continued to cuddle the six year old, fighting his own tears of frustration and empathy. “I’ll talk to Momma and see if I can turn her to our side, ‘kay, Teej? If anyone can get Papa to realize that it’s doing no good, it’s her.”

“Promise, Buck?” TJ asked, his eyes already beginning to droop shut once more, his body needing sleep after the surgery.

“I promise, baby. I’ll talk ta Momma as soon as I see her.” Bucky kissed his brother’s temple and remained sitting in the bed, allowing the small child to sleep laying against him.


	2. Fight and Law

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Fighting and Violence, Injury, Period-Typical Homophobia**

April 13, 1931:

Looking down at the metal and leather strap brace that ran up the entirety of his right leg, TJ tilted his head as he moved his leg at the knee, the brace moving stiffly with it. The brace, commonly used with Polio patients, would hopefully straighten TJ’s leg out slowly and provide the limb with much needed support. It had been a rough few months recovering from the surgery, but finally his leg had healed enough to go out again. TJ had been upset when his father had told him they were going to see another doctor but, after assurances of no more surgeries, TJ had relented and gone with his father and Bucky to the appointment.

The brace wasn’t painful at all, which made TJ happy, and it also wasn’t uncomfortable. Looking up at his father and then at Bucky, TJ said, “it doesn’t hurt.”

Bucky’s nervousness poured away and he grinned. “Really? It doesn’t?” He hugged his little brother, careful not to knock him over. “And the crutches? You think you can use them?”

Tilting his head again, TJ’s pale eyes moved to look over at his new crutches. He’d never seen crutches like them before but they looked a lot better than his old ones. These crutches were made out of sturdy metal, not the old wood ones, and instead of resting on his armpits they had handles that secured around his forearms. “I think so? They won’t rub me raw like the other ones . . .”

James, Sr. looked relieved and ruffled his son’s hair. He loved all his children and worried about how TJ would get on in life so handicapped. “Really, TJ? This will work for you? They wanted another surgery but then I heard about this man with the brace and thought I’d let him try.”

Smiling at his father, TJ nodded and reached out for the crutches.

Bucky finally stopped hugging his brother and, leaving his left hand on TJ’s back, said, “well, don’t forget, you can still piggyback if you want. I don’t mind. I’ll always carry you, baby.”

“I know, Buck,” TJ nodded, giving his brother a smile and positioning the crutches on each of his forearms like the man had shown him. Sucking in his bottom lip under his teeth, TJ eased up, the brace doing it’s job and supporting the twisted limb as the boy straightened back up. The new crutches felt different but TJ could tell he already liked them more. Taking that first step, moving one crutch and then the other with each step, TJ beamed at Bucky, “ya see, Buck?”

Beaming with pride and delight, Bucky nodded and reached out to ruffle TJ’s curls. “You’re walking, Teej! You’re walking!”

“I’m walkin’!” TJ smiled happily, looking up at his father, “ya see, Papa? I’m walkin’ like a normal kid!” The six year old didn’t seem to care that most kids didn’t wear a brace over their entire leg and use crutches.

James knelt and hugged his son carefully. “So you are, son. Why don’t you walk right out of this office and with us to the trolley stop?” He smiled as he rose to his feet, looking relieved for once. It truly seemed things would improve for the youngest Barnes child.

“Yes, Papa,” TJ nodded, taking each step carefully as he got used to the new crutches and the brace. After they’d made it outside the office and onto the street, TJ seemed to get the hang of walking rather quickly. The boy, always smart and quick witted, embraced the newest improvement in his life.

Bucky walked proudly on TJ’s other side and smiled at everyone they met along the way, some of those who knew the Barnes family doing a double-take as they passed. Once the family got to the trolley stop, Bucky and James helped TJ up the steep step into the vehicle but both backed off to watch, equally nervous, as TJ walked down the aisle himself.

The little boy had to twist a bit and maneuver his body to walk down the narrow aisle on his own but he managed and found a spot where all three of them could sit. Once in his spot, he looked up at his brother and father and grinned, proud of himself, “see that? I did it all on my own!”

James nodded, finally speechless, enjoying his little boy’s joy and freedom. The solution wasn’t perfect but was certainly better than continually trying to open TJ up. “Think you can make it up the stairs with that brace on?”

“I can try, Papa?” TJ assured his father, never one to back down from a challenge even if he would most likely fail. He’d have to figure out a new way up the steps, since he couldn’t curl up his right leg the way he used to to make it up the steps with the brace on.

“And we can help you figure it out. Maybe use your left leg up, leaning on the crutches, then pull up the right to join? And going down send the right leg first then step down with the left?” Bucky looked around at the people, some openly starting, others avoiding meeting their eyes.

TJ didn’t seem bothered by the stares or awkward avoidances; he’d been getting those for as long as he could remember. “I’ll try it,” TJ nodded, his eyes set in determination. Once the trolley stopped at their stop, TJ used his crutches to get back to his feet and walk down the narrow aisle once more. He let his father and Bucky help him down the steep step off the trolly and then started off in the direction of home.

Climbing quickly down after TJ, Bucky then James stood for a moment to watch how quickly the boy seemed to be moving. Grinning to each other, the pair hurried to catch up the the very mobile six year old. James put a hand on TJ’s curls to slow him down gently. Bucky moved to TJ’s opposite side once more and started talking about how TJ could now get to Steve’s place easier to visit and play.

“Imma do _everything_ now, Buck!” TJ beamed happily, slowing down a bit like his father wanted. “Maybe Momma will let me go to school with Becca now that I can walk right?” The little boy seemed to be practically buzzing in excitement with all the prospects that he felt were open to him finally.

James lost the sparkle from his smile and didn’t say anything as Bucky enthusiastically said, “I don’t see why not. You can walk and all. You ain’t stupid, either.”

“I’m not stupid!” TJ agreed vehemently, his curls bouncing a bit with the excited force of his nod. “I’m real smart, huh, Buck? As smart as Becca! I bet I’m just as smart as Rosie, too!” The little boy’s mind ran a million miles a minute as he thought of all the things he wanted to do now that he was more mobile. “I can go out an’ play with the other kids! Like Charlie and Freddy and Harold! They’ll play with me now, jus’ you wait and see!”

“I think they will,” Bucky said happily. “They let Spencer play with them, and he’s got a brace on his leg from Polio.” Spencer had been lucky not to wind up in an iron lung. Bucky opened the door to their apartment building and grinned wide. “Now, you show me steps, Teej. And if you get tired, you rest.”

Nodding, biting his lip in concentration, TJ started up the stairs, going slowly so he didn’t fall. With the new crutches and the brace, he wasn’t forced to crawl up the steps; instead he took them one at a time until finally he made it to their floor. Turning back to his father and Bucky, TJ grinned and said, “didja see that?”

“I saw,” James confirmed as he scooped up the little boy. “And I can see you’re all worn out, too. Might be overdoing in, TJ. C’mon. Let’s go see what’s for supper.” He let Bucky open the door and carried the six year old inside. “Sweet, we’re home!”.

“I’m not tired, Papa!” TJ protested though he panted slightly.

Winnie stepped out from the kitchen, the savory scent of a pot roast wafting through the small apartment. She brushed a strand of brunette hair that had escaped from her braid behind her ear and smiled when she saw TJ in his new brace and with the crutches . . . though he was being carried by James. “Back already? You made very good time!” She glanced at the clock and then back at the three entering the apartment. “You even managed to beat Becca and Rosie home.”

“And TJ walked to the trolley stop and the apartment and climbed the stairs, Momma. It’s only just as we got to the door that Papa picked him up.” Bucky rocked on his heels in excitement for his baby brother. “He can walk, Momma!”

“He can? Using both legs?” Winnie’s brows rose in surprise and her blue eyes moved to look at her husband to judge his opinion on the trip back. There had to be a reason why James had picked TJ up after all.

Looking sheepish, James shrugged one shoulder and said, “he seemed to get tired?”

“I wanna show Momma!” TJ tried to wiggle out of his father’s arms.

Panicking slightly as he felt his son slipping, James said, “TJ, be careful! I’m going to drop you!”

“I wantcha to drop me! I wanna show Momma I can walk good!” TJ whined, still wiggling.

“But, Teej, if he drops you, ya might twist that leg brace and that’d hurt!” Bucky protested. “Jus’ let Papa put you down.”

TJ pouted but listened to his older brother, going still so that James could put him safely back on the floor. Frowning, James let his son down, turning a worried look to his wife. “I think he’s getting a little . . . tired. Acting a bit pouty.”

As soon as his feet were back on the floor, TJ’s pout turned into a bright smile and he exclaimed, “watch me, Momma!” TJ started to move about the apartment, a lot easier than he could on those old crutches. The sudden pick up in attitude showed that TJ had really just wanted to show his mother his newly found freedom.

Winnie gasped and put a hand over her mouth, eyes widening in surprise as she watched her youngest son move about in the small living room. “My God!” She breathed out, looking at James, “he _is_ using both legs!”

Nodding, James watched intently, looking for signs of weakness or tiredness. “And he’s been non-stop the entire way home, Winnie. The boy’s bound to run out of steam soon!” There was, however, a hint of real pride in James’ voice.

Walking over to her husband, Winnie leaned up against his side as she watched TJ continue to move about, so much freer than she’d ever seen him move. “James . . . this is a _good_ thing. Look at him!”

Turning briefly to his wife, James whispered in her ear, “he’s asking to go to school and play with those rough boys from across the street.”

Blinking, looking up at James with surprise on her features, Winifred responded “he couldn’t possibly think he’s ready for school? And there is no way he’s playing with those boys! I’ve heard how rough they can be! Janet told me just last week at the market that they broke Spencer’s brace!”

Nodding, James said, “I know. I’ve seen them roughing and bullying. I don’t want them to get access to TJ.” He turned to watch the enthusiastic little boy demonstrating for his newly returned sisters.

“Talk with Bucky, James,” Winnie said, keeping her voice soft, “if Bucky tells TJ about those boys and maybe . . . I don’t know, helps TJ find some other - - _calmer_ friends, maybe we can discuss him going out once a week to play . . .” the mother’s voice held worry as she watched her little boy. TJ was so sweet and sensitive and _good_ . . . she didn’t want him tainted by the cruelness of the world.

Nodding, James sighed and scrubbed his large, calloused hand over the back of his head. “Yes, Winnie. I’ll speak to him before he goes to bed, after TJ’s settled down for the night. For now, we might distract them all with a bit of that wonderful smelling pot roast.”

Winnie nodded, patting James’ chest fondly, “get the children cleaned up for dinner, I’ll finish up the roast.” She gave one more glance at TJ before turning back into the kitchen.

**************

June 14, 1931:

Walking along the sidewalk, his hands stuffed into his pockets, Steve kicked a pebble down the cracked concrete. He looked up at the tenement building he walked in front of, the same building that the Barnes’ lived in. He didn’t think Bucky would be home; his best friend said something about running a few errands for his mother. Steve rolled his shoulders and let out a sigh. He brushed back his bright blond hair from his eyes as he passed by the empty lot next to the tenement building.

Hearing the sound of vicious laughter, Steve frowned softly and turned, heading towards the sound.

Around the corner of the building, at the side steps, stood two boys of about eleven or twelve, largish, one dark, the other fair. They stood at the bottom of the steps, blocking a smaller figure with a very identifiable leg brace and pair of metal crutches.

“Well, he’s not real steady on the steps. I bet we could get him to fall down pretty easy, the silly little cripple. Serve him right for coming near normal folk.” The dark boy called to his friend.

The other boy laughed and asked cruelly, “is he deaf and dumb or just a sissy cripple?”

“Hey, crip,” the first boy sneered, “you gonna cry?”

TJ tilted his chin up in defiance and said, “not uh! I don’t cry!” The boy attempted to move past the other two, bigger boys to get off the steps.

The dark boy pushed TJ back, square in the chest, and sneered, “wait a minute, sissy-boy. You gotta pay a fine for bein’ so ugly an’ useless.”

With a yelp, TJ fell back on his butt on the hard stairs, his crutches tangling with his limbs. Luckily, the brace didn’t break with the fall.

“Hey!” Steve shouted, already charging towards the boys, fury in his blue eyes. “Leave ‘im alone!” He launched himself on the back of the boy that had shoved TJ.

Reaching roughly for the skinny undersized blond, the second boy called, “hey, another runt! You owe a toll for breathing, runt!” He tugged hard.

Letting go of the one boy, Steve whirled around and slammed his fist into the other boy’s chin, “you two are the sissies! Pickin’ on a little kid!”

Knocked to the ground, skinning his palms on the concrete, the light-haired boy pushed up and ran towards Steve, head down to butt him in the stomach. The darker boy whirled around and grabbed one of TJ’s crutches to try to hit their attacker with, not caring that he twisted it off TJ’s small arm. “I’ll teach you a lesson, you foul little tramp!”

TJ let out a cry as his wrist twisted and something seemed to pop. The little boy curled up tightly, his wrist held against his chest.

Letting out a roar, not matching Steve’s small frame at all, the blond charged at the boy holding TJ’s crutch. “You son of a . . .” He attempted to rush into the boy’s abdomen, hoping to knock the wind out of him.

Suddenly the dark-haired boy stumbled hard right into Steve’s path, easily run down by the angry blond. Bucky stepped over to the lighter boy and grabbed him, both hands tightening into the boy’s collar so much he cut off the other kid’s air supply. “You let my brother alone or I send ya ta the fishes!” he growled.

While Bucky dealt with the one boy, Steve turned on the other and punched him hard on the jaw, “you learn your lesson yet, sissy?” Steve spat, anger in his tones.

Letting the crutch tumble to the hard ground, the dark-haired bully flipped and began to crawl away. The lighter one choked and ineffectively batted at Bucky’s hands.

Nodding once, Steve turned and tapped Bucky’s arm, “Buck, let ‘im go, unless you wanna send ‘im to the morgue.”

Pushing the boy away, looking disgusted as the preteen picked himself up off the ground and turned, his pants soiled, and tried to run away, stumbling as he went, Bucky turned and hurried to his brother’s side. “Teej? Baby? Show me where it hurts.”

Shaking his head, TJ whimpered and remained curled up, his thin body trembling, his right leg held straight out by the brace.

Frowning, Bucky scooped his injured brother up into strong arms and carefully nuzzled at TJ’s temple. “I’m takin’ ya home, baby. You hang on. Be only a minute.”

TJ turned his face into Bucky’s shoulder, his arm still curled up tightly, protecting the wrist, though Bucky could see it already starting to swell and bruise. Steve scooped up both of TJ’s crutches and hurried after Bucky. The older brunet carried his brother up the steps to their apartment. “Stevie? Can ya get the door for us?” He nuzzled TJ’s temple again. “Almost home, baby. Gonna get you to Momma.”

Steve stepped in front of the pair and opened the door for them, holding it, allowing Bucky to step into the apartment.

As he rushed carefully into the home, Bucky called frantically, “Momma! TJ’s wrist is hurt!”

Winnie hurried over, knowing by Bucky’s tone that her oldest son was worried. “Bucky? What happened?” She peered into Bucky’s arms, trying to get a look at TJ’s wrist but the boy remained curled up, whimpering softly.

“Those boys from across the street were tormenting them, beating on Steve and TJ,” Bucky reported, cuddling his brother close in his worry.

Winnie glanced over at Steve to try and see if the blond suffered any injuries but when she couldn’t see any, she moved her attention back to TJ. “TJ, baby, c’mon, let Momma see your wrist . . .” she tried to coax gently.

TJ shook his head frantically, burrowing his face further into Bucky’s shoulder.

“Teej,” Bucky wheedled, “give Momma your arm so she can make it feel better.”

Sniffling softly, TJ slowly brought out his wrist and showed it to Winnie. Winnie frowned fiercely when she saw the thin limb already swollen and bruised, denoting at least a sprain if not a break. “Oh, my poor baby,” Winnie cooed. “Bucky set TJ on the couch and go break some ice from the icebox and then wrap the ice in a towel. Steve, go into the hall closet and bring me some of those linen bandages.”

Nodding, Bucky turned and eased his baby brother onto the old worn couch. He hurried off to the small ice box they owned to chip out some chunks into a bowl. Grabbing a clean cloth and a glass of water, Bucky brought back the supplies before rushing off again to get some of Momma’s pain pills she reserved for when TJ felt really sore.

By the time that Bucky returned with the pain medicine, Steve had already given Winifred the bandages and the woman worked on the injured limb. Looking up from where she knelt by the couch, Winnie said to Bucky, “which boys did this?” She settled the ice against TJ’s thin wrist, drawing a small whimper from the boy.

“Charlie Hennessy and Freddy Majors,” Bucky reported on a growl. “When I came up, Freddy had TJ’s crutch and was beatin’ on Steve with it.”

Nodding once, Winnie said, “I’ll have your father go speak with their families.” She gave TJ one of the pain pills, helping the boy take a sip of water. “Bucky, sweetheart, did you pick up that package for me from Mrs. Jenkins’ shop? It has the fabric for Becca and Rosie’s knew dresses.”

Flushing and hanging his head, Bucky reached for the door. “I dropped it when I saw those bullies on Teej and Steve. I’ll go get it from the alley, Momma.”

“Thank you, dear, and can you pick me up some carrots and flour, too? Take some money from the jar,” Winifred looked up from where she tended TJ and gave her other son a soft smile. “You know TJ will sleep for a while after the pain medicine. He’ll be okay. I think it’s just a sprain. I’ll wrap it up after I let the ice do its job.”

Nodding, Bucky reached into the money jar and pulled out just enough for what he’d been asked to go out and buy. He took one last glance at TJ then hurried outside. Steve rushed out after Bucky after setting TJ’s crutches by the couch. “Buck, you alright?” Steve called, jogging a bit to catch up with Bucky’s long strides.

Stopping inside the alley, Bucky scanned the ground for the brown paper wrapped parcel of fabric. He clenched his fists, as if waiting for those boys to show back up so he could give them another sound beating. “They tried to hurt you. They _hurt_ Teej.”

“Teej’ll be okay, Bucky,” Steve tried to reassure his best friend, bending over to pick up the package, dusting it off with one hand. “Ain’t right, what they did, pickin’ on TJ, but we got to ‘em in time to show ‘em what happens when they tease TJ.”

“Tease?” Bucky turned incredulous light blue eyes on his friend. “Steve, they didn’t just tease either of you. They downright attacked you both!” His entire body shook in the effort to control his anger. “I jus’ saw red an’ wanted to make ‘em pay!”

“I know, I know,” Steve nodded, letting out a sigh and shaking his head. Truth be told, Steve had never seen Bucky like he had been today. Steve felt pretty sure that had he not touched Bucky to bring his friend back, Bucky may have hurt that boy a lot more than he did . . . not that the jerk didn’t deserve it. “All I’m tryin’ to say is that TJ is gonna be okay, we taught those jerks a lesson, and your Papa will go give their families a piece of his mind.”

Nodding, Bucky suddenly turned and placed his forehead on Steve’s shoulder, his body shuddering in the aftermath of such heavy conflicting emotions. “They were hurting you and Teej . . .“

Wrapping his arms around Bucky in a hug, one hand still holding the package, Steve breathed into Bucky’s ear, “it’s okay, Bucky, both TJ and I are safe, okay? You did good. You did real good, Buck.”

Lifting his face, Bucky blinked to find their faces so very close together. Slowly, he drew in a deep breath then backed up a step. “Gotta get flour and carrots. Wanna come, Steve?” Bucky asked, sounding strangely breathless though he wasn’t sure why his heart had begun to race.

Smiling, Steve nodded and reached out with one large hand to pat Bucky’s shoulder before turning, walking with Bucky in the direction of the nearest market. “Of course I wanna come. Can’t say no to spending time with the best fella ‘round, right?”

Chuckling, Bucky leaned in and shoved at Steve with his shoulder. “You say the oddest things, Stevie.” He began leading the way to the corner of the stalls, the back corner, and smiled for the lady sitting and waiting for customers. “Hello, ma’am. My Momma wants flour and carrots, please.” He handed over the precise money.

Smiling, the woman made a small production out of picking the best of what Bucky had paid for. “There you are, Jimmy. Now you best be going home in this weather.”

Puzzled, Bucky turned to look out the window at the clear blue sky, not even a cloud in sight. “This weather, ma’am? What weather?”

Steve looked out the window as well, frowning a bit in confusion. He looked up at the blue sky and then turned back to the woman. “It’s sunny outside, ma’am,” Steve informed.

She nodded and rubbed at her elbow, “but the joints never lie. Be warned, boys, a storm’s brewing and ready to strike us down. Better if you locked in and stayed over in a safe house, boys. Best way to avoid lightning, you know, is to stay inside.”

Paying for the small amount of groceries, Bucky picked up the bag and glanced to Steve, “we’ll get home real quick, right, Stevie?" He continued to eye the lady as if she had two heads, not just one.

“Yeah, you don’t live too far away,” Steve nodded, frowning a bit in confusion as he looked at the woman and then back to Bucky. “C’mon,” the blond turned to lead Bucky out of the shop. Once outside, Steve looked up at the sky and then back at Bucky, “think she’s losin’ it . . .”

“Maybe,” Bucky sighed. “Maybe you should ask your Momma if old folk can feel the weather change before we see it?” Bucky sounded entirely doubtful that the woman had been safe for everyone. He began leading Steve back to his apartment building. “I know my history teacher can feel bad weather, but she’s at least in her fifties. And there’s no clouds!” Bucky glanced up then back at Steve.

“I don’t know, Bucky, seems weird to me,” Steve shrugged, still holding the parcel of fabric in his hands. On the way back to the Barnes’ apartment, something caught Steve’s eye and he grinned, pointing at something in a toy shop’s window, “hey, betcha TJ would like that. Maybe your Momma can make something similar?” He pointed out a stuffed wolf with black beaded eyes.

“Oh! It’s gorgeous! I think Momma can really make that if she wants to. My Momma is the best sewer ever.” Bucky reached out one careful hand to touch the glass in between them and the stuffed wolf.

“And Teej’s birthday is in a few months, right?” Steve smiled, glad to distract Bucky for the moment at least.

Nodding, Bucky smiled and softly said, “yeah, August thirteenth. You’re sooner than he is, Stevie.”

Shrugging one shoulder, Steve said, “I don’t need nothing.”

Laughing outright, Bucky bumped shoulders with Steve. “Birthdays aren’t for _needing_ things, unless it’s an emergency. Birthdays are for getting a nice treat, like a special meal or something. I love birthdays! Does your Momma give you a special meal or anything?”

Looking up at Bucky, Steve looked thoughtful and slowly nodded, “sure. She’ll make me a cake, I don’t get cake other than on my birthday. Plus, we always go on the roof an’ watch the fireworks. Hey!” Steve grinned brightly, “would you and Teej like to come over? Do you think Teej can make it onto the roof?”

With a happy laugh, Bucky said, “with that new brace and crutches? Yeah, TJ can climb mountains, Stevie. He’ll be there. We both will.” The brunet boy bumped his shoulder into Steve’s again and his fingers traced over Steve’s hand before he pulled away, flushing a bit. “Uh . . . oops, sorry,” he said, a bit breathless.

Shrugging his shoulders, Steve didn’t looked bothered in the least, “I don’t mind ya touchin’ me, Buck.” The blond bumped up against Bucky playfully with a bright laugh, “I’ll tell Mama to expect company on my birthday.”

“She don’t gotta make cake for me and Teej, Stevie. So she don’t gotta worry ‘bout the expense, ‘kay?” Bucky offered happily, relieved Steve hadn’t gotten uncomfortable when their hands touched.

Steve opened his mouth to reply but jumped nearly a foot when a loud clap of thunder echoed from the sky. “Well,” Steve whistled, “I’ll be damned, that old lady knew a thing about the weather!” The skies which had previously been blue and sunny were now almost completely grey and gloomy, threatening to dump rain down at any second. “C’mon, lets get home before these fabrics get ruined.”

Nodding, Bucky took off in a sprint, happily racing Steve towards the nearest of their apartments. He was aware that Steve had breathing problems, so slowed down every few steps but remained ahead of the other boy the entire time. Once at the closer of their buildings, Bucky slipped in the front door and held it for Steve, just as the sky opened up and a burst of wind and heavy rain crashed down over the city. WIth a wide grin, Bucky laughed, “you beat the storm, Stevie.”

“We sure did!” Steve laughed, trying to catch his breath from the safety of the apartment.

Winnie looked over as she pulled a blanket over the sleeping TJ. “Huh, I didn’t think it’d rain! It was beautiful this morning!”

Nodding, putting down the parcel of fabric, Bucky said, “yeah, and some lady at the store even said it was going to rain and lightning, Momma. I thought she was confused, but she was right!”

“She sure was,” Winnie laughed and stroked her fingers through TJ’s curls before stepping away from the worn couch. “Thank you, boys, for getting those groceries and the fabric.”

“Anytime, Momma. I like running errands. Gets me outside. I love being outside,” Bucky grinned up at his mother, suddenly realizing he was about even with her shoulder. “Hey! I got taller this spring!”

“You keep on growing, Bucky,” Winnie confirmed with a nod, ruffling her fingers through Bucky’s hair. “Mark my words, you’re going to be taller than your father by the time you’re finished!”

“SIx feet at least?” Bucky said, sounding surprised and delighted. “Wow! I’ll be the tallest in the house.” He turned to Steve and TJ, looking over his sleeping brother. The smile dropped away in worry. “How’s Teej doing, Momma?”

“Oh, he’ll be fine,” Winnie nodded with a fond smile towards her eldest son. “The swelling already went down and I wrapped it up. Though this is the reason why I don’t want him going to school. I can teach him what he needs to know right here.”

WIth a sigh, Bucky gently tried to argue, “but he’ll never learn to deal with the other kids, his peers, if he stays at home protected all the time, Momma. He needs to face them, bad and all, to become strong.”

Unnoticed by the others when he had walked into the apartment, soaked and mud splashed from the storm, James shook his head and said, firmly, “your mother’s in charge of what TJ does or doesn’t do. She wants to teach him at home, she teaches him at home. I don’t want you thinking you’re smarter than a full grown woman, James Junior!”

Flushing, Bucky nodded, hanging his head. “Yes, sir. Sorry, Momma.”

“James, when the storm stops, I want you to go over to the Hennessy’s and Majors’ home and talk to their fathers. Their boys attacked TJ and Steve today. Injured TJ’s arm,” Winnie gestured to TJ’s arm which she’d wrapped in bandages to keep it steady.

Nodding, the man hung his soaked spring jacket up on a peg and took off the muddy, soaked shoes he’d been wearing. “There oughta be a weather service that can predict these storms. If I was a science man, I’d look into it.”

Snorting softly, Steve finally spoke up, “I guess old women’s joints can predict the weather, Sir. The lady at the market said she felt the storm comin’ in her bones.”

James snickered softly, “elderly people can _always_ predict the weather. You young kids don’t know so much, but when you get older, you’ll realize there’s all kinds of things us _old_ people can do.” He winked at Steve and earned a smile from Bucky.

Winnie fussed over TJ for a few more moments before she backed off to let the boy sleep. Most likely, with the higher dose painkillers, the boy would be asleep for the remainder of the day. “Steve, are you staying over, sweetheart? I can call the hospital to let your Momma know. I don’t think you should go out in this weather.”

Steve looked over at Winnie and then towards the door where they all could hear the strong storm raging outside. “Yes, ma’am, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” Winnie waved her hand dismissively and walked off to presumably make that call.

Steve turned his eyes back to Bucky, “hope you and Teej don’t mind a roommate for a night?” He knew both boys slept out in the living room because the apartment only had two bedrooms, the room taken by Winnie and James and then the other shared by Rosie and Becca.

“Nah, it’ll be great. I think we’ll make a fort of pillows on the floor and let Teej have the couch, ‘kay?” Even taking the pillows off the couch, they’d still be able to cushion the remainder with the heavy winter quilts Winifred had tucked away in a chest at the foot of her bed.

“Sure,” Steve agreed with a bright smile, blue eyes lighting up. He looked down at TJ and then back up at Bucky, “does he always sleep so much after takin’ the medicine?”

“Yup,” Bucky walked over and very carefully stroked his brother's curls. “He’s so little, it always knocks him out for half a day and night. He’ll be awake in the morning, but most likely sleep through supper.” Bucky stroked again.

“Ya know, there’s been somethin’ I’ve been meaning to ask? You can tell me to mind my own business if it’s private,” Steve looked between the two brothers before settling his gaze on Bucky once more.

Glancing at his best friend, Bucky shrugged, still grinning, “what’s the matter, Stevie?”

“Nothin’ the matter, jus’ when I first met you two, and Teej lost his tooth, remember?” Steve asked, rocking on his heels.

“Uh . . .” Bucky tilted his head and nodded, “yeah, I remember Teej losing his tooth. You were being robbed.”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded.

Eyes opening wide, Bucky said, “by the same bullies who attacked Teej today, Stevie!”

Blinking, Steve slowly nodded, “I suppose they were, huh?” That hadn’t been what he was getting at but he let Bucky make that connection.

“Yeah, what about it?” the brunet tilted his head, watching Steve’s vivid blue eyes curiously.

“Well, remember how TJ kinda spaced out when he lost his tooth and you said stroking his curls wakes him? Does that happen a lot?” Steve finally asked.

Shrugging, Bucky said, “yeah, happens a lot. He gets lost in his thoughts, kinda, like he’s outta his body or something. Touching him helps bring him back, puts him back on the ground, kinda?” Stroking TJ’s curls again, Bucky added, “TJ likes being touched. Feels like people who touch him don’t see him as a crippled boy but as a real person to like.” Grin widening over his pretty features, Bucky added, “it’s why we’re always petting him.”

Smiling softly, Steve nodded, his eyes moving down to look at the little boy again, “I guess that makes sense. Do you think he’d mind if I pet him sometimes? I didn’t know if it was jus’ family or whatever.”

Laughing outright, Bucky turned his grin to his mother and asked, “Momma, you think Teej would _mind_ if Stevie pets him, too?”

Winnie laughed and said, “that boy craves attention, Steve! Especially touch. Anything you give him, he’d be over the moon.”

Blinking, Steve nodded and walked over to the couch, stroking his fingers through TJ’s hair, his own hand brushing over Bucky’s in the process. Looking up, face inches from Bucky’s, Steve promised, “I wanna help you care for TJ, Buck. You an’ me.”

Nodding, Bucky breathed out, “you and me, take care of TJ and protect him.” He stroked under Steve’s hand then added, softly, “soft, ain’t he?”

Smiling, turning his gaze down on the little boy, Steve nodded, “he is,” Steve laughed softly, gaze a fond look that Bucky often gave his little brother. “We won’t let nothin’ bad happen to him.”

James nodded at the promise of the two preteens. “Good, now, if you’ll help Mrs. Barnes set the table for lunch, we’ll eat before I have to go back to work.” He walked over to Winnie and kissed her cheek. “I’ll speak to the fathers on my way back out.”

“Good. I don’t want this to become a habit. TJ has enough to worry about without being scared to leave the apartment without fear of being hurt,” Winnie nodded, preparing lunch for them all. “I’m glad that Bucky found Steve as a friend. Loyal, that boy is so loyal.” Winnie looked into the living room and watched both Bucky and Steve fussing and petting TJ, standing closer than most friends might. Winnie’s lips pulled into a soft frown as she watched them.

Glancing into the other room, James frowned and called out, “table. Setting. Now!”

Bucky jumped back from Steve and turned to hurry and obey his father. “Sir, sorry,” he said as he passed the man in the kitchen-dining area.

James looked at Winnie. “May I help you check on TJ while the boys set the table?”

“Please? Can you check his brace and make sure it’s all in order? You saw the doctor put it on, I didn’t think anything was wrong but I’d hate for it to be hurting TJ,” Winnie nodded..

Nodding, James led his wife to the other room and began checking his younger son’s brace. Softly, he asked, “how long have those two been . . . touching like that, Win?”

“All the time,” She commented just as softly, worry in her pale eyes, “I thought it was mishaps before but . . . James, you don’t think . . .” She glanced over her shoulder to look at the two boys setting the table.

“They’re boys, Win. They’ll probably outgrow it once they realize girls are out there. I haven’t seen them around girls yet. Maybe I should try to set something up at Synagogue?” James stroked TJ’s curls with his large, strong, calloused hand.

“They love each other,” TJ murmured groggily, his eyes only slightly open. “Jus’ like you and Momma . . .” It was very possible TJ wasn’t even aware of his words at the moment, only slightly in touch with what went on around him.

“How are you doing, baby boy?” James instantly changed the subject since his son seemed to be waking up. He refused to discuss immoral relationships in front of the six year old.

“Tired and my arm hurts,” TJ yawned, nuzzling into James’ palm. “Bucky beat ‘em up, Papa. Shoulda seen it. He choked ‘im.” TJ yawned again.

“I heard Steve lent a hand, TJ,” James smiled worriedly. “Are you hungry yet or just want more sleep?”

“I sleep . . .” TJ yawned again, letting his eyes close all the way, falling back asleep within moments.

Winnie met James’ eyes and then looked over at Bucky, “I think we should talk with the Rabbi . . .”

Nodding, James said, “I’ll see him on the way home from work.” Slowly, as if suddenly realizing something, James asked, “Stevie’s not Jewish, is he?”

“Catholic. Sarah Rogers is a devout Catholic,” Winnie confirmed with a slow nod, stroking her thin fingers through TJ’s hair. “Why do you think TJ said such things . . .”

Snorting, James said, “because he’s a six year old babe. They say the oddest things, Win. You _know_ that. Remember? When Bucky was five, he said he was in love with a doggie down the street.”

“Not TJ. TJ is a very observant boy,” Winnie worried at her bottom lip.

Frowning, James softly warned, “you’re reading too much into the words of a six year old, Win. I’ll speak with the Rabbi.”

Letting out a breath, Winnie nodded, “I hope you’re right, James.”

“Lunch, Win. Let’s worry about lunch right now. Those boys are just good friends and will grow out of it. I did.” He snapped his mouth shut as he realized he’d said something extremely private he’d never shared. Turning, the man walked into the dining area and said, “all set up?”

Winnie blinked in shock, watching her husband for several moments before she looked back down at TJ once more. “Never grow up, baby,” she murmured, stroking one last time before standing up and walking into the kitchen to finish making lunch.

**************

July 4, 1931:

Steve opened the door to allow both Bucky and TJ into the small apartment. The delicious scent of vanilla cake cooling as well as corned beef and cabbage filled the space and hit both boys as soon as the door opened. “Hey, guys!” Steve greeted with a wide grin. The summer air was hot that day and with the cooking going on inside the apartment, the small space literally felt like an oven. “Mama said we can hang out outside while she finishes up the food if you want?”

It had been just over two weeks since TJ and Steve had been attacked, so Bucky felt fairly confident his brother felt full of energy and sass. To help keep TJ’s energy directed usefully, Bucky suggested, “wanna show us to the roof, Stevie?”

“I wanna see the roof! Never been on the roof, Buck!” TJ grinned happily, leaning on his crutches, the bandages on his wrist gone, displaying the almost faded bruises.

Laughing outright, Steve nodded and called over his shoulder, “Mama, gonna show TJ and Bucky the roof!”

“Enjoy yourselves, Steve. Be back in an hour, son,” Sarah replied with a smile in her voice.

After he got a reply from his mother, Steve grinned at the two boys and slipped out of the apartment, onto the fairly new metal stairway. “Up this way,” Steve said, beginning to lead them up the stairs.

When they got to the top of the apartment building, the boys could see over almost all the buildings; the Brooklyn bridge stood proudly over the Hudson River. Steve grinned, knowing how beautiful of a view the rooftop had of New York.

“Wow,” TJ breathed out, jaw dropped open in awe. He hobbled over to the edge of the building, not quite close enough to cause too much worry, and took in the amazing sight. “You see, Buck?” TJ asked, looking over his shoulder at his older brother.

Smiling proudly for his brother’s bravery, the older boy strode right up to the little boy. “I see. This is great. Hey, Stevie, do you play up here often?”

“I mostly come up here to draw,” Steve answered, walking up to the edge, standing right next to Bucky, so close that their fingers brushed against one another.

Softly, Bucky whispered, “whatcha draw, Stevie?” He turned his hand to twine fingers, flushing lightly but hoping Steve wouldn’t reject him.

Steve looked down at their entwined hands but didn’t say anything before he finally lifted his eyes to meet Bucky’s.

“You know what he draws, Bucky!” TJ laughed, either not seeing or not caring about the intimate moment between the other two boys. “He hangs his pictures up all over his wall!” 

Flushing brighter, Bucky said, “yeah, like a real comic artist. Your art is great, Steve.” He didn’t seem to care that TJ had answered the question, wanting just to talk and extend the moment with Steve. He shimmied just a little closer and asked, “you ever bring anyone up here before?”

“No,” Steve answered, having to look up at Bucky since the other boy stood so close. “Jus’ you . . . and Teej . . .” Their lips were only inches apart, their breaths mingling together. 

Nodding, giving in to temptation, Bucky brushed his lips over Steve’s the way he’d seen his parents kiss goodnight in a hurry. It felt rather . . . nice.

Steve’s eyes opened wide but he didn’t pull back from the kiss; instead once Bucky had pulled away, Steve leaned up on the tips of his toes to kiss back.

Smiling, eyes meeting Steve’s, Bucky brought his hands up to cup Steve’s face and kissed again, lingering on the other boy’s plush lips. “Hey, Stevie,” he whispered.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve smiled against Bucky’s lips. He pulled back and blinked when he saw TJ watching them with wide eyes. “Oh . . .” Suddenly, Steve realized what they’d done. He and Bucky could be _arrested_ or even _killed_ for kissing! Not to mention the fact that the Bible said they’d go to hell for loving one another. But . . . it felt so right to kiss Bucky, how could something that felt so good be bad?

Blinking in confusion at the sudden horror in the little blond’s eyes, Bucky whispered, “what’s wrong? I hurt ya?” He’d enjoy the kisses and had hoped Steve would, too.

“No . . . it’s just - -“ Steve flushed and gestured to TJ with a tilt of his chin, “if our parents . . . find out, I doubt they’d let us see one another again . . .”

Turning and looking down at TJ, Bucky suddenly understood what frightened Steve. He went pale and let go his best friend, turning to kneel before TJ. Gripping his brother’s shoulders gently, Bucky said, “TJ, you can’t tell anyone what me and Steve did, oaky? We could go to jail or be killed.” Fear raced through him from nuts to head, causing Bucky’s breath to catch.

“You want me to lie?” TJ tilted his head slightly, “but . . . Rabbi said it’s bad to lie, Buck.”

Shaking his head, Bucky said, “I didn’t say lie, baby. I said not to tell anyone about it.”

“So, I can’t tell Momma and Papa about you and Steve being married?” TJ asked, tilting his head and looking confused. Steve and Bucky had to be married, because only married people kissed.

_Married?_ Bucky wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. _Married to Stevie?_ “It’s a secret marriage?” Bucky tried out the words. “Right, Stevie?” He lifted his eyes and turned to look at the other preteen.

“Right,” Steve nodded, jumping onto any explanation that would hopefully soothe TJ enough to keep quiet, “jus’ between the three of us.”

“But . . . why?” TJ’s brows furrowed as he tried to puzzle through everything. “Why do you wanna keep your marriage secret? Momma and Papa let everyone know they’re married ‘cause that’s what married people do?”

“TJ, the law says two guys can’t be married. I don’t know why, but it’s illegal.” Bucky looked to his little brother again. “But . . . but me and Stevie don’t wanna get put in jail or even hanged, okay?”

Eyes widening in horror, TJ gasped, “you and Steve are gonna get _hanged_? I don’t want that! I’ll beat up anyone that tries to hang you!” The little boy looked determined to protect his brother and Steve, whom he was now convinced was Bucky’s husband . . . or would Steve be Bucky’s wife? The complex nature of Steve and Bucky’s relationship was too confusing for TJ’s mind to wrap around.

“So, you can’t tell anyone, okay, baby?” Bucky asked desperately. He didn’t want Steve to die because he’s kissed the pretty blond.

“I won’t tell no one,” TJ agreed with a nod, meeting Bucky’s eyes, “I promise. I’m a good secret keeper, Buck!”

“Not even Momma and Papa, Teej, right?” Bucky asked.

“Not . . . not even Momma and Papa,” TJ agreed slowly, looking worried at keeping something from his parents, but he didn’t want Steve and Bucky to die because of him.

Suddenly pulling TJ into a tight hug, Bucky whispered, “thank you so much, baby! And me and Steve will always be here for you. No matter what, Teej. The three of us are friends forever.” Hugging again, Bucky whispered, “my brother.”

Letting his brother hug him for several long moments, TJ finally pulled away to ask, “does this mean you’re movin’ out? Are you gonna live with Stevie ‘cause you’re married?”

Shaking his head, Bucky said, “we’re not moving out or anything for a long time, Teej. Can’t be married until we’re older. So right now, we have to be very quiet about it and continue to live with our own families.” Bucky cupped TJ’s cheeks again and met his soft, pale eyes. “You don’t _want_ me to move out, do you?”

Shaking his head frantically, TJ said, “I don’t want you to ever move out! You’ll be with me forever, right?”

Hugging tightly, Bucky said, “I’ll be with you forever, TJ! As long as you want me to.” Turning his head to look over at Steve, Bucky’s voice dropped to a whisper and he asked, “right, Steve?” He worried that Steve would feel too pressured because of TJ’s assumptions.

“Right,” Steve smiled, at ease since TJ had promised to keep his and Bucky’s kiss secret. “The three of us ‘til the end of the line.”

Bucky broke into a flushing smile and lowered his eyes. “Till the end of the line,” he agreed softly.


	3. The Birthday Which Changed Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Fear, Anxiety, Shame, Self-doubt, Intersex, Period-typical Homophobia**

August 13, 1931:

Smiling happily as he set the table for two adults and five children, Bucky hummed to himself, dancing to his own tune. Being an active boy, Bucky found it very hard to ever stay still, though he’d found recently it helped when he wanted to sneak up on Steve up on the roof tops. Ever since Steve’s birthday, in fact, the pair had been practicing sneaking up on one another, usually ending in the victor stealing a delicious kiss or a quick cuddle. And having TJ as witness never seemed to hold either boy back, though they were very careful about making sure no one else was around.

Dancing around to place cutlery on the other side of the table, a fork and spoon by each plate, Bucky swung his hips and shuffled his feet to the ragtime tune in his head. He adored birthdays and this time, with TJ and Becca turning seven, would be extra special. He had a very special gift for his baby brother. And Momma worked hard in the kitchen making an extra special cake for TJ and Becca’s day - - complete with strawberries, TJ’s absolute favorite food, and some chocolate, which Becca adored. Steve coming over would just make the day perfect, and the blond had said he’d be there before noon.

“You dance real good, Buck! I wish I could dance like you!” TJ grinned, hobbling into the small dining room.

Turning, Bucky grinned widely, “nah, I just move around however I want to the songs. I never learned or nothin’.”

“You should go to the dance halls, Buck,” Rosie said, walking into the main room, her brunet curls pulled back from her face and spilling around her shoulders. She and Becca both wore the dresses that Winnie had made them out of the fabric that she’d sent Bucky to get a few months before. “I heard that Nancy Calligan is sweet on you. You should take her out for pop.”

“Just because she’s sweet on me don’t mean I’m sweet on her, Rosie Barnes,” Bucky shot back, still grinning. “And gotta be seventeen to go to the dance halls. I’m only fourteen, Miss Know-It-All.” He reached out and tugged one of his eleven year old sister’s braids.

Swatting at Bucky’s fingers, Rosie narrowed her pale blue eyes, “well, when you’re seventeen, then.”

“Will you take me to the dance halls when I’m seventeen?” TJ asked, looking between his older siblings with a wide smile.

“Sure, I can do that,” Bucky agreed, grinning widely. “When you’re seventeen, you and me can go hang out and dance with the dames.” He winked at his little brother.

“You hear that, Becca? Bucky’s gonna take me to the dance hall!” TJ called out to his twin, hobbling over to her on his crutches, his brace still working and providing the much needed support.

Becca grinned and reached out to stroke Tj’s curls, just like the rest of the family always did. “Can I go, too? I can dance with you, Teej.” She swayed her own tiny body to the apparent music only Bucky heard, matching his rhythm with no effort.

“Papa! Bucky’s gonna take Becca and I to the dance hall!” TJ called, attempting to dance with his crutches and brace, the movements more jerky and uncoordinated.

Walking into the room, James chuckled and stroked TJ’s hair, “oh he is? How’s he going to get the lot of you in, baby boy? He’s not seventeen, and neither of you are there yet, either. Even if it is your birthday,” James added, turning to give Becca a stroke on her meticulously braided curls.

Bucky walked up to TJ and stopped his effort. Instead, he took the little boy’s hips and started rocking them back and forth. “Don’t need to move the feet or hands, Teej. Just the hips and body. Move to the music.” And he started humming his mental tune for the other boy. With Bucky’s help, TJ was able to get down a decent sway of his hips, grinning brightly up at his older brother.

Giggling, Rosie grabbed Becca’s hands and started to dance as well, calling, “we can have our own dance hall right here!”

“Oh, we can?” James laughed and stepped up behind his wife, grabbing her hips and twirling her around to face him. “Here that? This here’s a dance hall now. Dance with me woman!”

Laughing, letting James twirl her away from icing Becca and TJ’s cake, Winnie started to sway and move with her husband to Bucky’s tune.

The door opened and Steve stepped in, stopping short at seeing all the Barnes members dancing and hearing the sound of Bucky softly humming. He grinned brightly. He’d never heard Bucky hum or sing before but he could tell, just by the humming, that Bucky had a pretty good voice. He didn’t announce himself, instead choosing to watch them all dancing and having fun, his eyes moving to Bucky more often than not.

As Bucky finally stopped the song, laughing and breathless from humming while dancing with TJ, the brunet teen turned and grinned even wider. “Stevie! You made it! C’mon in. We’ve opened our own dance hall.”

Looking sheepish, Steve stuffed his hands in his pockets and flushed a bit, “I’m good with jus’ watchin’, Buck. You dance with TJ.”

Tilting his head, still grinning, Bucky said, “or we could let Momma finish the cake then all have lunch and birthday party?”

“Wait a minute,” James called out, stopping with his wife pressed close to the front of his body. “You haven’t finished the _cake_?” He winked at her and pretended to be horrified.

Gently slapping her husband’s chest with one hand, Winifred laughed and said, “no, I haven’t. This man came out of nowhere and swooped me up, taking me away from cake icing!” She turned back to the kitchen to finish up the cake and lunch meal.

“Papa! Look at me! I can dance now!” TJ moved away from Bucky to show his new skill to his father, letting Bucky go for the moment.

Watching the young boy, James nodded and clapped. “A star is born. See that, Winnie? He’s got your rhythm. Maybe if we could get him to sing or something , we could make money off him like the rich folks do.” James cuddled his son suddenly and dropped a kiss on his head, “but only if you like being a dancing monkey for hire, TJ.”

“Not uh! I don’t wanna be a monkey! I wanna be a Teej!” The boy giggled, cuddling with his father.

“Good, cause I don’t want a pet monkey. I want a son, Teej,” James agreed readily. “And it’s your seventh birthday . . . and Becca’s. Twins are such a double blessing, aren’t they Winnie?” He picked up his son and transferred the small boy to his strong shoulders.

“Look! Look! I’m as tall as Papa!” TJ squealed happily.

Winnie looked over and grinned, pleased to see the little boy so happy. “You’re taller than Papa, Teej!”

Bucky grinned at Steve and asked, “did your Mama say you could spend the night, Stevie?”

“Yeah, she said I could,” Steve nodded, smiling up at Bucky. “It’s great to see him so happy.”

“And Becca, too,” Bucky pointed out TJ’s twin. “She’s so sensitive, she worries if he’s not feeling well. So it’s great to see them both doing great. Can’t wait to see them opening gifts.”

“You got them somethin’ good, didn’t you?” Steve grinned, knowing that Bucky had been doing various odd jobs the last few weeks to earn some money.

“Me? I already gave Teej half his gift. In our house, though, we don’t all give gifts. We draw names on New Year’s eve for the year. Papa got TJ. I got Becca. Momma got me and Rosie got Papa. Becca got Momma.”

“That’s great, Buck,” Steve smiled at his friend, “what was half his gift?” Steve loved talking with Bucky and spending time with him . . . even if they couldn’t kiss or cuddle with all of Bucky’s family around.

“Well, I taught him to dance, didn’t I?” Bucky laughed. He turned to look proudly over his little brother and sisters. “They’re great kids, Steve, and TJ especially. I know he feels clumsy, so I figured teaching him to dance would make him happy.”

“I think him spending any time with you makes him happy,” Steve commented, rocking on his heels and looking around the small apartment and then back up at Bucky. “Any word on if he’s going to school in the fall?” Steve lowered his voice to talk with just Bucky.

Shaking his head with a sigh, Bucky lowered his own voice just as much. “Momma won’t let him and Papa says it’s her choice, so TJ stays home again.” He turned worried eyes on his brother. “But I think he needs to meet other kids his age.”

Letting out a sigh of his own, Steve nodded, glancing at TJ who was now back on the ground, playing and laughing with Rosie and Becca. Looking back up at Bucky, Steve said, “she can’t possibly think he’ll be at home forever?”

“I think she does,” Bucky sounded as frustrated as he felt. “And she don’t listen to reason ‘bout it, neither.”

“Buck!” TJ called, making his way over to where Bucky and Steve stood. He looked at Steve and grinned, “hi, Stevie!”

“Hi, Teej, happy birthday,” Steve smiled at the seven year old. He never felt upset over TJ interrupting him and Bucky. TJ was a part of Bucky and Steve had long accepted that.

Lowering his voice, so only Bucky and Steve could hear, TJ whispered, “are you talkin’ about married stuff?”

“Nope,” Bucky said, careful about what he said, “we’re talking about you. Wondering if Momma’s ever going to let you go to school or if she plans to hog you to herself all the time still.” He ruffled TJ’s hair. “And how I cheated today and gave you a birthday gift even if Papa’s the one who got your name.”

“I get two birthday gifts!” TJ grinned, hugging Bucky and then Steve before hobbling off to say to his mother, “Momma? Will I be able to go to school with Becca and Rosie and Bucky?”

Frowning softly, Winnie looked up from the meal she prepared, “TJ . . . honey, let’s not do this today, okay?”

James strode over and scooped up TJ, transferring the boy to his shoulders and striding away. “Now, son, I understand I got your name for today. Is that a fact?”

“Yeah, Papa!” TJ smiled happily, successfully distracted, “can I open it? Please?”

“Wait,” James stopped stock still and his face comically twisted, “drawing your name means I had to get you a gift? Oh, sugar cookies, I knew I forgot _something_.”

“Papa!” TJ giggled, looking down at his father, bending over to meet his eyes, “you got me somethin’! I know you did!”

“I did?” James looked relieved, “oh, that’s good. Don’t want to forget my special boy. Maybe you can help me find it.” He took a step towards the bathroom. “This way?” he asked.

Scrunching up his nose, TJ shook his head, “why would it be in the bathroom, Papa?”

“Well,” James chuckled, “maybe I bought you potty paper?” He took a step in the direction of the bedroom the girls shared. “Okay, this way?” James teased.

“Papa!” TJ giggled, his left leg swinging a bit while his right, in the brace, remained still. “Rosie and Becca don’t have my present!”

Stopping, James asked, “they don’t? Oh my. Where could it be?” He blinked and shook his head, heading towards the bedroom he shared with his wife, Winifred.

Steve glanced at Bucky, amusement in his eyes, “you had Becca’s present, you said?”

With a soft laugh, Bucky nodded, “and put it in Momma’s hope chest where she can’t snoop to look.” He turned his amused pale blue eyes on his best friend.

“Do you know what he got Teej?” Steve asked, stepping a bit closer to Bucky, close enough that his fingers brushed against Bucky’s.

Nodding his head, Bucky softly said, “yeah, and it’s to help keep TJ safer. He let me help pick it out.” Bucky let his fingers caress against Steve’s just as much, enjoying the closeness, imaging sneaking off to the roof for kisses later on.

Steve must have been thinking along the same lines because he leaned in closer to whisper, “after Teej’s in bed, we can watch the stars tonight, right?”

Nodding, Bucky whispered back, “yeah. I wanna . . . try something, too. Gonna wait until tonight, on the roof.” He followed his father’s movements, still pretending to have lost TJ’s present, with his eyes.

Steve twined his fingers with Bucky to give them a gentle squeeze before letting them drop again.

“Bucky!” Rosie trotted up to her brother and Steve, “Momma says she needs your help in the kitchen!”

Nodding, Bucky sighed, “really? _My_ help?” He winked at Steve. “Okay, but if TJ finds his present while I’m gone, I ain’t letting you live it down, Rosie girl.” The older Barnes sibling turned to hurry into the kitchen-dining area of the apartment.

Winnie looked over, her pale eyes moving down Bucky’s form and then back up to meet his eyes. She wiped her hands on a towel and strode up to her eldest son, cupping his face between her hands, “James, what are you doing?” Her voice was so soft.

“Momma?” Bucky asked quietly, “I was watching Papa tease TJ about his present. They’re hunting for it right now.” He smiled at his mother in happy anticipation.

Sighing, Winifred shook her head, “no, James, what are you doing with Steve?”

Frowning softly, Bucky tilted his head and said, “talking ‘bout Teej?”

“James, I see the looks, the touches,” Winnie kept her voice very soft, “what you two are doing, it’s _immoral_ , not to mention _illegal_.”

Blinking in shock, Bucky asked, voice trembling just slightly, “it’s illegal to talk about TJ? To look at Steve and to bump into him or grab his hand? How’s that, Momma? How’s anything I’m doing with Stevie immoral?” Bucky brazened it out by throwing out the challenge.

“James Barnes, I am your _mother_ , you wear your heart on your sleeve,” Winnie sighed, stroking her fingers across Bucky’s cheeks, “I know how you feel for him. Don’t waste either of our time by arguing.”

Frowning fully, Bucky pulled back slightly and lowered his voice to a worried growl,” well, if you know all that, why you even askin’? Why not just turn me over to the police and get it over with?” Bucky hugged himself, face reddening.

“You honestly think I would do that?” Winnie looked shocked, her voice lowering to a harsh whisper, “you are my son, James. I love you.”

Not meeting her eyes, Bucky dropped his gaze to the floor, looking miserable, angry, and ashamed. “Done nothin’ wrong. Why’s everyone on our case?”

“You’ve done _nothing_?” Winnie put one finger under her son’s chin and lifted his face so she could meet Bucky’s eyes, “then, look me in the eyes and tell me that your’s and Steve’s relationship is strictly friends?” 

Tears filled the fourteen year old boy’s pale blue eyes and he pulled away. “Why’s everyone hate the idea so much? Why _can’t_ Steve and I be together or get married or anything? It’s not wrong. It feels so _right_ , more right than being with a stupid _girl_!”

Sighing, Winnie shook her head and said, “I don’t know why, Bucky, but it is, and you can get hurt if anyone finds out. Steve could get hurt. No one else knows, right?”

Continuing to hug himself in rising misery and shame, Bucky whispered, “not like we tell people.” He met her eyes at last and said, “I tried kissing on girls and I hate it. I love Stevie.”

“Bucky, does anyone else know?” Winifred asked again, frowning softly as she met her son’s eyes. “Did someone see you two? They aren’t hurting you, are they?” She knew her son had a protective streak a mile wide and would do anything to protect the ones he loved.

“Someone hurting me?” Confusion filled Bucky, and worry, “who? Did someone say something? We’ve been so careful, Momma. We only ever meet in his room or on the roof . . .”

“No, I just want to be sure. So, only me, you, and Steve know of this? No one else?” Winnie nodded.

“Why?” Bucky asked very softly. “You think me and Steve invite others to kiss with us?” His voice sounded miserable, bitter, just shy of rebellious - - self-protective. He wanted to curl up in a dark corner and avoid people looking at him, the _freak_ who liked to kiss a boy, touch a boy. Shame washed over Bucky.

“I don’t think that but other people have access to the rooftops, yes?” Winnie shook her head and let out a breath, “you just have to be careful, okay? I won’t stop you but please, for the love of God, be careful.”

Feeling ashamed and guilty, Bucky didn’t respond, hugging himself, fighting tears in his pale eyes. He merely hung his head and didn’t respond any more. The fourteen year old couldn’t imagine living without Steve, without the other boy’s kisses and touches. So he just stayed quiet, drawing into himself instead, no longer enjoying the birthday party. Finally, barely heard, Bucky said, “yes, Momma.”

“Bucky!” TJ’s voice called, the sounds of his crutches and brace getting louder and louder, “Bucky! Papa and I found my present and we even found yours to Becca! We’re gonna open presents!” TJ made it into the kitchen and stopped, eyes wide, “Buck? Why are you crying?”

Bucky lifted his head and said, “because I’m a horrible boy who breaks the law and shouldn’t be near normal people.” He turned and bolted from the room and outside.

“What did you do to Bucky?” TJ demanded of his mother, looking upset and angry.

Steve frowned, looking towards the kitchen and then the still opened front door. He turned and walked out, trying to figure out which way Bucky went.

James looked after the two boys then headed into the kitchen with a frown. “What’s wrong? Why’d Bucky run out of here? Is someone hurt? He getting the doctor?” Blinking at TJ’s expression, James softly asked, “Win? What happened?”

“I talked with Bucky,” Winnie sighed, meeting her husband’s eyes, “about big boy stuff and he got upset.”

With a sigh, James asked, “and it couldn’t have waited until _after_ the party?” He shook his head. “Win, you go to the girls and see if you can salvage the entire thing with Becca’s gift, since Bucky’s not here to give it to her. TJ, come on, let’s get your gift. You can show it off to Bucky when he comes home later.” WIth a shake of his head, the worried parent reached for his younger son to try to turn him out of the kitchen.

“I don’t want a present! I want Bucky back! Why’d Momma upset Bucky?” TJ demanded again, his pale eyes fiery with anger.

“Of course Bucky will come home, TJ, in an hour or two. Boys his age are always getting upset about things. Come on, baby. Let’s go make sure the girls are okay. We don’t want to upset Becca on your special day, do we?” James tried again to guide the small boy from the room.

Frowning fiercely, TJ turned his head to glare at his mother before hobbling out of the kitchen. “Bucky won’t be back to see Becca and me open presents . . .”

James shook his head again and glanced at his wife. Softening his voice, he asked, “well, did you at least find anything out?”

“Only that James loves Steve,” Winnie sighed and rubbed at her eyes, “I told him that I wasn’t asking him to stop but to just be careful . . .”

“But by then he was too upset to comprehend your words, love?” James asked. WIth a sigh, he turned and guided his wife out of the kitchen. “Boys his age are so damned sensitive. He’ll come around, be back by tomorrow at the latest. Might go to Steve’s to spend the night. I’ll ring Sarah and give her a head’s up.”

“Do you think she knows?” Winnie asked softly, meeting her husband’s eyes.

Stopping, James returned his wife’s look and asked, very softly, “knows what? That her son is testing out his own boundaries?”

“It’s more - -” Winnie’s voice cut off when Rosie came running in.

“Papa! TJ is trying to go down the stairs by himself! I tried to get him to come back but he said he’s gonna find Bucky!” Rosie reported, eyes wide.

With a sigh, James bolted out to the hallway and grabbed TJ, swinging him up onto his shoulders with ease. “Oh, no you don’t, Mr. Explorer! Bucky and Steve are probably at Steve’s place by now. Let them blow off some steam and come back tomorrow. We’ll save them cake.”

“But, it’s my birthday!” TJ cried, trying to slip from his father’s shoulders, “I want Bucky here! I don’t care that they’re married! I want them here for my birthday!”

Rolling his eyes at TJ’s wild fancy, James carried him to Winifred and said, “I’m going to ring up Sarah and see if Bucky’ll talk to TJ. You go to the girls. And make sure TJ’s present didn’t mess up the bedroom,” he sighed heavily, wondering if giving in and getting his younger son a puppy had been a huge mistake. It had been intended for a companion and protection, but didn’t seem such a great idea at the moment.

TJ sulked in the kitchen as Winnie hurried out to do what her husband had ordered. After his mother had left, TJ sniffled and wiped his face on his shoulder to clear away the tears with his shirt. He watched his father intently.

James picked up the phone and spoke clearly to the operator, giving the five digit code that would ring Sarah’s house. Meeting his younger son’s eyes, James greeted Sarah once she picked up. “Sarah? Has my son come over there by any chance?”

He listened then smiled, “yes, it’s okay if he takes a few minutes before coming back. TJ wanted to make sure Bucky would make it back in time for his present. He specifically wanted his brother to see him get the present.” After another pause, James said, “thank you so much, Sarah. We’ll hold off until he gets here then. Good night.” James hung up and met TJ’s eyes. “She’s sending Bucky back home right now. He’d gotten there just before I called.”

Sniffling again, TJ wiped his cheeks on his shoulder again before he nodded. “Bucky’s gonna come home for my birthday?”

“That’s what Sarah said, baby. He’s on his way right now.” James reached over to stroke TJ’s curls.

**************

Bucky hadn’t really thought anyone would follow him, but he also had really nowhere to go, so he’d run to Sarah and Steve’s place. Ending up in front of the apartment door, the fourteen year old slid down to sit right next to the barrier, curling in a ball as he hugged his knees and cried into one arm. He felt horrible, evil and twisted. A freak.

“Buck?” Steve called softly, panting as he had run the entire way from Bucky’s apartment to his and then had hurried up the steps to get to his front door.

Lifting his head, reluctant to draw attention but unable to ignore Steve, “right here,” Bucky whispered. Tears streamed down his cheeks and Bucky looked as miserable as possible, shame and fear in his pale eyes - - self-loathing. “I’m right here, Stevie.”

“What happened, Buck?” Steve asked, crouching down to get on Bucky’s level.

“Momma knows,” Bucky whispered. “She kept at me to tell her who else knows, but I didn’t talk. But she . . . she . . . I’m gonna get you killed if I don’t stop. I’m such a bad person for being this way.” He buried his face in his arm again.

“Hey, you are _not_ a bad person!” Steve insisted, reaching out to stroke Bucky’s knee, “and we aren’t going to die. Okay? That’s not what’s going to happen. Your Momma is jus’ scared, is all.”

The door opened and Sarah looked at the boys in surprise. “I thought it was the twin’s party today? Steve? Bucky? What’s wrong? What’s happened?” She knelt down to begin checking on the crying brunet.

“Bucky had a fight with his Momma,” Steve said, looking at his mother and then back at Bucky, “he ran here to get away.”

“Oh, Sweetie,” Sarah let her hand fall to Bucky’s curls, stroking gently as most people did to TJ, not the older boy. At the sound of the phone ringing, the nurse sighed and let go the teen to answer it. She spoke quietly a moment then hung up and came back out to the hall. “That was your father, Bucky, honey. TJ wants to have you see him open his present. Your father asked if you’d return, please?”

Scrubbing at his eyes, Bucky didn’t say anything as he got slowly to his feet. Once standing, unable to look at the boy he loved so much, Bucky nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go home.”

“Do you want me to stay here, Buck?” Steve asked softly, getting to his feet as well.

“Nah, it’s okay if you come back. I won’t do anything stupid,” Bucky said softly, earning a confused frown from Sarah.

“Stupid?” Steve frowned, tilting his head slightly, “Bucky, we’re not going to get hurt . . . we - - you haven’t done anything stupid.”

Sarah looked from one boy to the other and frowned in worry. Finally, softly she said, “if you want, I can call back and tell them I’d rather keep you the night . . .”

Shaking his head, scrubbing his face harshly with his hands, Bucky said, “no, ma’am. It’s TJ’s seventh birthday and he wants me there. I’ve gotta go back for him.”

“Bucky . . . if you’re upset . . . maybe it’s better you stay here?” Steve offered a worried look to his best friend.

Looking miserable, Bucky hugged himself. “The longer I’m gone, the more Momma’s gonna assume I’ve been going around doing immoral things with people. Why give her fuel for her suspicions.” He turned and trudged back down the apartment steps, slowly, dejectedly this time, as if going back to a nightmare rather than a home he’d been happily dancing and humming in an hour before.

“Bucky, please, we can have Mama call and say you’re here and just need to stay the night?” Steve actually sounded like he begged as he walked to the landing of the stairs.

Stopping, Bucky shuddered and hung his head, torn and miserable. “You don’t get it, Stevie. Momma says people seen us do things we shouldn’t. Don’t know what she thinks anyone coulda seen, but she was talking about law and how you’re in danger and stuff. I’m a bad person and you’re not safe near me. Even my own mother thinks I’m a bad person.”

“Did she actually say that?” Steve asked, walking down the steps to get to Bucky. “Please, just stay? Calm down before going home.”

Wiping the back of his left wrist over his eyes, Bucky gave one shudder than seemed to regain all control suddenly. He softly, calmly said, “I’m better now, Steve. I won’t make a scene or nothin’.”

“But you look like you’re heading to a firing squad rather than a birthday party,” Steve pointed out, meeting his friend’s eyes.

Something in Bucky’s pale eyes had changed. He looked - - neutral, like he didn’t care one way or another about the situation. Like it no longer affected him. “I’ll be okay and smile and everything for TJ and Becca.”

“Bucky, I want you to stay, please? You can explain to TJ tomorrow about why you couldn’t make it back,” Steve knew that if Bucky went back, he’d be miserable the entire time and he might even get in a real argument with his mother.

“But it’s TJ’s and Becca’s birthday . . .” Bucky softly protested without much heart in the argument.

“Becca and TJ will understand, Bucky, I promise,” Steve reached out to stroke his fingers over Bucky’s. For once the older boy didn’t try to twine fingers, just standing there practically unresponsive.

Frowning softly, Steve tilted his head and let out a breath, “okay, Buck, if you want to go, I won’t stop you.” He pulled his hand back.

Bucky wrapped his arms around himself and hung his head. “I don’t _wanna_ ever go back. But I gotta. I gotta protect TJ.”

“I don’t think your parents are going to hurt TJ. They love all of you,” Steve pointed out.

Remaining with head bowed, hugging himself, Bucky finally agreed, “yeah, I guess so. Okay. I’ll stay.” He sounded overwhelmed and lost.

“Bucky . . . I don’t - - I don’t know how to help?” Steve worried at his bottom lip.

“I don’t want you killed because I’m a freak,” Bucky replied softly.

“Well, if you’re a freak, then I’m a freak, and I can get you killed,” Steve said.

Lifting his face, eyes burning intently, Bucky softly said, “I don’t care if I die. As long as you and Teej are okay.”

“Okay, boys, enough of this death talk and such. Come inside and let’s get this sorted reasonably.” Sarah put a hand on Steve’s shoulder then one on Bucky’s, gently guiding them with a firm hand. Bucky looked surprised, as he hadn't noticed her observing the entire encounter. Once in the apartment, the woman shut the door and turned to the boys. “Now, tell me what’s happening so I can help.”

Looking at Bucky and then at his mother, Steve flushed and swallowed thickly, “I . . . I - - we . . . we kiss, Mama?”

“You kiss,” she repeated, sounding a bit puzzled. “And?”

Blinking, looking surprised, Steve said, “uh . . . we kiss like - - like couples do . . .” The blond flushed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“You kiss like couples?” Sarah repeated, still sounding mystified. “Well, unless this is a group orgy thing, I would assume it’s a couple thing?” Her eyes trailed over to Bucky then back to Steve. “Some context might be more helpful, Steve.”

“How much more context do you want? Winnie knows that we kiss and I guess gave Bucky a hard time over it.”

Drawing a breath and letting it out slowly, Sarah asked, “okay, for a start, _who_ do you two kiss? And are her parents angry?”

“Mama, _we_ kiss. Bucky and I, we kiss each other!” Steve flushed even brighter and looked down at the floor.

“Oh,” Sarah blinked slowly once more. “You and Bucky kiss each other.” She let her eyes trail over to the older boy then back to her son. “So, correct me if I’m wrong, but Bucky _is_ a boy? Not a girl?”

“Of course Bucky’s a boy!” Steve gaped.

“Well,” Sarah tilted her head, “he is rather a _pretty_ boy, Steve. And I’ve never seen him undressed down to his skivvies or further.” She watched her son closely, though her voice remained neutral and curious, “have you?”

Blinking, Steve frowned and looked at Bucky and then at his mother, “well . . . no, but . . .” he looked at Bucky, “you are a boy, right?”

Flushing bright red, hugging himself, Bucky didn’t answer, just staring at Steve mutely, as if shocked. Sarah looked from Bucky to Steve but didn’t push things yet.

“Bucky . . .” Steve reached out to take his friend’s hand, “you . . . you’re a boy . . . right?” Steve didn’t think he could have misread this whole thing for so long.

Finally snapping out of his daze, Bucky hissed, “if I was a girl, do you think my Momma would be worried they’ll kill you and me for loving each other, Stevie?”

Snatching his hand back, Steve flushed and said, “I don’t know, Buck. I just . . . I wouldn’t - - I mind . . . if - - ya know?” Flushing even brighter, Steve looked down at his feet.

Bucky flushed even brighter and said, “you want me to be a girl, Steve . . . or a boy?” He paused then said, “really can’t have it both ways. That’s . . . I mean . . . I’m . . . a boy.” He looked away, down, up, anywhere but at the two people with him in the tiny apartment.

“Buck . . .” Steve stepped up closer once more and stroked his fingers down Bucky’s cheek, “Buck, look at me, please?”

Turning miserable eyes on his best friend, looking embarrassed to the point of wanting to hide, Bucky whispered, “what?”

“What’s wrong? Bucky, you can tell me, you know that, right?” Steve prompted, gently, meeting his friend’s eyes, “you know I’d never leave you. ‘Til the end of the line, right?”

Sarah stayed quiet, not interrupting, despite the fact that her thirteen year old son made loving promises to another teenaged boy. She wisely let the pair try to hash things out before jumping in and dealing with the entire male loving male issue that seemed to be Winifred’s, and many outsiders’, issue. Sarah, for her part, just wanted Steve happy and healthy, even if it meant secretly loving another male. After all, she’d always suspected her son leaned in such a direction since meeting Bucky, at least. Perhaps it wasn’t so much the gender as the person, in Sarah’s opinion.

“Yeah,” Bucky let out a breath and ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, you’re loyal to the end. One of the reasons I love ya, Stevie.” He seemed to relax slightly, though remained very tense still. “Whatcha wanna know, Steve?” he asked softly, finally meeting Steve’s eyes directly.

“You’re hiding something . . . you’re scared, please, tell me?” Steve continued to stroke gently, smiling gently.

Drawing a deep breath, Bucky nodded and lowered his eyes to stare at Steve’s chest instead of his face. “I’m a boy. Been a boy most of my life. And Momma’s upset because I love another boy. She thinks we’re going to get caught and be hurt.” With a shrug, Bucky continued to keep his gaze on Steve’s chest.

“Bucky . . . you said you’ve been a boy _most_ of your life?” Steve licked his lips, never taking his eyes off Bucky’s face.

Flushing deeply, Bucky said, “I love you, Stevie, but please don’t ask me to become a girl. I’m a _boy_.” He hugged himself once more.

“I would _never_ ask you to become someone you’re not, but, please, help me understand? Help me help you?” Steve stroked his fingers down Bucky’s neck.

Closing his eyes, swallowing hard, Bucky unwrapped his arms and began undressing without a word. He didn’t stop until he got down to his drawers, hands hesitating on the ties. Then, before Steve or Sarah could stop him, Bucky untied the drawers and let them fall around his ankles, revealing a penis and testicles, like any other boy, but something seemed off about Bucky;s genitalia, seemed . . . shaped oddly near his testicles.

Blinking, Steve looked at his mother; she was a nurse and would be able to explain this to him better.

Sarah drew a breath in softly then knelt and asked, “may I, Bucky?”

Keeping his eyes closed, Bucky nodded, looking miserable.

Gently, Sarah lifted the boy’s flaccid member and revealed, behind the testicles, a vagina as well. Sarah sighed, eyes troubled and sympathetic. “It’s a very rare condition, Steve. Sometimes a baby is born with both genders. Usually due to some kind of chemical during the gestation. Was your mother . . .”. She helped Bucky pull his drawers back up, tying them carefully.

“My mother is Romanian and my father met her during the war. He managed to smuggle her out of her village during a series of bombings. They had to hide in a factory for several days with other soldiers from here, America.” Bucky opened his eyes. “When my father and mother realized she was pregnant, that’s when he married her on base. He came home with her and I was born a few months later . . . like this.” Bucky waved a disgusted hand over his double gendered area.

“But . . . you’re beautiful?” Steve breathed out, blinking as he took in everything. He lifted his eyes to look at his friend. “You’re . . . stunning.”

“I’m a freak, Steve. I’m both and neither. I belong on a stage at a circus.” Bucky hugged himself once more and tears slid down his cheeks. “I’m a boy but . . . I don’t know why I’ve been punished like this. Momma’s going to want me to start being a girl since I love you. She’ll keep at me over and over until I give in.”

“If she does, then you move in with us,” Steve stated, frowning severely, “you’re a boy, just have some parts of a girl. I know you’re a boy and I love you as a boy.”

“And now your Mama knows, too,” Bucky whispered. “Only me and my parents and the midwife knew all this time.”

Sarah pulled Bucky’’s trousers up for him and fastened them then sat back on her feet. She studied the stricken fourteen year old. “Bucky, Steve, be very careful about hiding your love from others. Winifred’s right. Others will hate you and hurt you for being in love. But, I see nothing wrong with finding and loving someone. I think gender is just one factor, not the end all and be all.” Sarah looked over at Steve. “But society and I, the church and I, disagree on that point.”

“Mama? What can we do? I love Bucky and I want to be with him. How can I be with him safely?” Steve looked determined to love Bucky and love him right.

Bucky blinked and looked at Steve with widening pale blue eyes. “Really? You . . . still wanna be with me, Stevie?”

Sarah smiled and patted Bucky’s hip. “Well, for one, you can’t show your love in public or where the public might see. It’s illegal in America. So, if you, Bucky, wish to remain a male and love a male, you both have to be extremely careful. Behind closed door and curtains, privately.”

“We can do that, right, Buck?” Steve asked, looking at Bucky with a smile.

Drawing ina breath, the older boy nodded. “Yeah, we can do that.” He turned a hopeful, if worried smile to Steve.

“Does . . . does TJ know, about you?” Steve asked softly, taking Bucky’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

Shaking his head, Bucky said, “none of them know, Steve. Just my parents, me, and you two, aside from the woman who delivered me, but she died three years ago.” He squeezed Steve’s hand in return, finally relaxing fully, leaning into Steve’s side. “I never been to a doctor, because my parents don’t want anyone to find out and I haven’t needed one.”

“Are there doctors that Bucky can go to, Mama, if he needed one?” Steve asked, still holding Bucky’s hand.

“I’ll think on it and put together a list. Bucky, you realize that soon you might start menstruating like a woman? If your ovaries and womb work, that is. I’ll help you with that if you want me to.” Sarah offered the boys a smile, gentle and supportive.

“We’ll help you, Buck, me and Mama,” Steve leaned up and pressed his lips to Bucky’s. “I love you.”

Mewling very softly into the kiss, Bucky nodded, tears welling in his eyes once more. He kissed back. “I love _you_ , Stevie.”

Sarah stood and left the lovers alone, knowing neither would go beyond a bit of kissing and petting, too worried about Bucky’s double-gender to take chances. She called the Barnes home and waited for someone to pick up.

“Hello?” Winifred’s voice answered, sounding worried.

“Winifred? It’s Sarah. Bucky is here and doing much better now we’ve talked about things a bit. Is TJ available for a moment before you and I talk?” Sarah glanced into the other room briefly.

“Yeah, hold on,” Winnie sounded even more worried before it sounded like she pulled the phone from her mouth, “Teej, honey, c’mere.”

There was the sound of the phone switching hands and then TJ’s small, sad voice came through, “hello? Is it Bucky?”

“Hello, TJ. This is Mrs. Rogers. Bucky’s here and has been having a big crying jag. He’s confused and scared about growing up, because it’s a big thing to begin growing up. But I’m taking good care of your brother. Would you like to talk to him?” Sarah sounded kind and loving, as normal.

“Please? I wanna talk to Bucky!” TJ said, almost frantically.

Sarah walked into the other room and touched Bucky’s shoulder. He drew away from the kiss with Steve as Sarah said, “your brother is near hysterical. Can you talk to him, Bucky, please?”

Nodding, Bucky let go of Steve and hurried into the other room to the phone. Picking up the receiver, he said, “Teej? Baby? You okay?”

“Where’d you go? You ran ‘way mad at Momma!” TJ sniffled, sounding like he tried to keep himself together.

“I’m sorry I scared you, Teej,” Bucky cooed gently. “I got in a fight with Momma and so came to Steve’s to talk with Mrs. Rogers. She’s helping me figure things out so I can solve the fight with Momma. Did you get your present yet?”

“Yeah . . .” TJ sniffled softly and said, “Papa got me a puppy . . . you missed it, Buck. He’s real cute.”

“A grey and white dog with big ice blue eyes?” Bucky asked, though he already knew the answer. “Looks like a baby wolf maybe?”

“Yeah,” TJ confirmed, the soft noises of a puppy whimpering coming through the receiver, “he’s real cute and likes to be pet. Are you gonna come back or did you move away forever?”

Giving off a half-chuckle, Bucky said, “I’m not going away forever, Teej. Remember? I promised. I just needed a bit of time away from Momma so I didn’t yell at her and ruin your birthday. Guess I ruined it anyway, huh?”

Bucky could practically hear the shrug that TJ gave in response, “I don’t know. I tried to go after you an’ Steve but Papa made me come back inside.”

“You tried to follow me?” Bucky sounded impressed and flattered. “Hey, thanks, Teej. I’m glad to know you tried, even if they didn’t let you. You know, I love you best of the whole world of brothers, right?”

“I’ll always try to follow you, Buck. Where you go, I go,” Bucky could hear the sounds of TJ’s crutches scraping up against the wooden floor of their apartment. “And I love you, too, Buck. Are ya gonna come home for cake or you gonna stay with Steve and do married stuff?”

“I’m coming home tomorrow, okay, Teej? Mrs. Rogers is helping me come up with ways not to get upset with Momma and yell at her.” Bucky sighed as his eyes fell on Steve and Sarah. “You taking care of Becca? She needs her twin, you know.”

“Yeah, I suppose. I’ll let you go then,” TJ let out a breath.

“TJ, when I come home tomorrow, will you let me pet your dog?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, you can pet ‘im,” TJ sighed, sounding disappointed, but before Bucky could get another word in, the phone transferred back to Winnie.

Bucky hung his head as he put the phone receiver in the cradle. “I should go home . . .”

Within a few moments, the phone started to ring again.

Sarah chuckled and reached past Bucky to answer it. “Winnie?” she asked.

“Yes? Sarah, it’s me,” Winnie confirmed, sounding even more worried now that it had seemed like Bucky had actually hung up on her.

“I’m sorry, Winnie. I forgot to tell Bucky to give me the phone back after he finished with TJ. He’s a bit distracted and upset. You see, he told us . . . showed us . . . his secret.”Sarah waited for the other mother’s reaction.

“He . . . what?” Winnie sounded stunned and she rushed to say, “that’s not . . . he’s not supposed to tell anyone! He could get hurt!”

Nodding, despite being on the phone, Sarah said, “I’ve seen the same condition once before and agree with you totally. But Steve and I would never hurt Bucky. And, Winnie, Steve is trying to learn all he can so he can help Bucky deal with his condition.”

“You have to know, Sarah, we’ve done everything we can for him . . . have tried to give him as normal of a childhood as possible . . .” Sarah let out a shuddering breath, “I just don’t want him hurt . . .”

“Winnie,” Sarah interrupted, “can you tell me something? When did Bucky decide to be a male, or did you both decided to raise him male?”

Winnie didn’t say anything for a few moments before she finally spoke up, “we . . . we thought raising him male would be easier . . .”

Sarah cleared her throat, “even though surgically, it would be easier to remove his penis and testicles than to hide a vagina and breasts?”

Sighing softly, sounding exhausted, Winifred said, “we . . . we didn’t think that far? We . . . we’d never seen anything like it . . . and . . .”

Her voice soothing, Sarah said, “I’m not judging, Winnie. I’m trying to understand how Bucky’s mentality developed. He feels male and wants to be male, so we’ll certainly keep treating him male. I merely wondered if he’d identified as female when younger but you or James insisted on him being male?”

“No, he’s always been a boy . . . he never said anything about wanting to be a girl,” Winnie stated.

A smile came into Sarah’s voice, “good. At least he’s certain what he is. Steve and I are keeping him over night to help him a bit with the confusion. I think whatever you said to him tonight scared and confused him, Win, and he came here for help. He’s a lot calmer right now.”

“I never meant to scare him. I just told him to be careful. I even said I wouldn’t stop what’s happening between him and Steve . . .” Winnie sounded worried.

Sarah sighed, “oh, Win, all he heard was that you said he was endangering Steve. That pair are in love, Win. Bucky cares so much, he was worried sick he endangered Steve’s life.”

“I know they are in love, that is exactly the reason why I told him I wouldn’t ask him to stop, just that he had to be careful . . . then TJ came in to ask about opening presents and then Bucky ran out . . . TJ wasn’t even excited about the dog James and Bucky picked out for him. But, I’m sure he’ll be okay . . . Bucky’s just always with him?” Winnie sighed softly.

“Did you tell him that Bucky helped pick out the dog? That might cheer him up a little until Bucky goes home tomorrow,” Sarah advised.

“I can try that,” Winnie sounded like she nodded.

“So, I’ll hang up now and let you get some peace. Maybe you can ask TJ to pick Bucky a special piece of cake for tomorrow? Get TJ involved in the knowledge that Bucky _will_ be home tomorrow,” Sarah smiled as she spoke.

“I’ll hope that will work. I shouldn’t have tried to talk with Bucky today. It just put a sour note on everything,” Winnie let out another breath and said, “okay, well, thank you for letting Bucky stay the night. Talk to you later, Sarah.” Winnie hung up only a moment later.

Hanging up, Sarah glanced towards the living room and noted the pair had disappeared. She didn’t go searching for them, instead sinking into a chair and beginning to puzzle out how to help the boy her son loved in a time and place that would kill them for that same love.

**************

Bucky stopped and looked around Steve’s room as if he’d never been in there before, though he had several times. A bit shy and nervous around Steve, now that Steve knew his hidden shame, Bucky found he couldn’t meet the other boy’s eyes. So, instead, he studied a particularly well done portrait Steve had done of his mother.

“You know, this doesn’t change anything between us,” Steve commented softly, sitting down on the edge of his small bed.

Flushing, Bucky looked over to Steve and swallowed. “Yeah? I thought it changed everything. I mean, I haven’t even seen you without clothes and you’ve now seen . . . _everything_.”

“Bucky, you could have three eyes and I’d still love you,” Steve said truthfully, “what you have under your clothes doesn’t matter to me. I think every part of you is beautiful.”

Turning at last, Bucky played with the hem of his shirt. “Really? You’re okay with me being a guy _and_ a dame?” He shook his head and walked over to sink down beside Steve. “Well, that’s _one_ of us, at least.”

“But, you’re not. Unless, you wanna be a dame? Do you, Buck? Wanna be a dame?” Steve asked softly, dropping his hand to Bucky’s knee.

Bucky leaned against Steve’s shoulder instinctively and whispered, “always been a boy. Don’t think I’d make a very good girl, actually. I wouldn’t know how to be like Becca or Rosie.”

“Well, you wouldn’t, for one. You’d be like you. You aren’t Becca or Rosie or TJ. You’re _Bucky_ and I love Bucky,” Steve offer his friend a smile.

Hesitating, Bucky slowly smiled in return, his eyes lighting up a bit. “Yeah? Because that means I have dick, Stevie . . . and you ain’t exactly built like a dame, either.”

“Nope, I’m not,” Steve shrugged his shoulders and said, “guess we’ll just have to deal with that then, won’t we?”

Studying Steve’s face, Bucky turned his hand under Steve’s then twined fingers. Smiling softly, the brunet leaned in to kiss the blond. “You know, Stevie, as long as we both know where this is heading, why don’t we . . . try to help me . . . uh . .. . you . . .” Bucky flushed again and ducked his head, burying his reddened face in Steve’s neck. He dropped to a bare whisper. “Wanna feel you touch me, Stevie.”

“Touch you?” Steve asked softly, stroking his fingers over Bucky’s knee.

Nodding into Steve’s shoulder, Bucky whispered, “like Teej? Just so I know I’m awake, alive . . .”

“I can do that,” Steve nodded, beginning to pet his fingers through Bucky’s curls and down the side of his neck.

Smiling softly, lifting his face, Bucky said, “yeah, just like that.” He met Steve’s eyes and said, “you really aren’t disgusted by my body . . .”

“Not at all. Like I said, you’re beautiful,” Steve commented as he stroked his fingers through Bucky's hair.

“So are you, Stevie,” Bucky breathed out and lay his head on his best friend’s shoulder, smiling.


	4. Missed Birthdays and Longing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Intersex, Menstruation, Blood, Pain, Confusion, Anxiety, Misunderstandings, Era-typical Homophobia**

August 14, 1931: 

 

The front door to the Barnes’ apartment opened without even a squeak on the well oiled hinges. Bucky walked in, removing his outdoor shoes and lining them by the door, enjoying the warm breeze of the early summer morning. He headed towards the bathroom to relieve himself and clean up a bit, smiling in memory of the long night simply being cuddled by Steve.

When Bucky made it back out into the living room, he could see TJ laying on the couch, the new puppy snoozing on his chest. The seven year old’s eyes were open but he hadn’t greeted his brother despite Bucky walking right past him.

Bucky settled on his pallet of blankets and sleeping bag before he realized TJ lay awake. Sitting up fully to face his brother, Bucky called, “hey, Teej baby. Thanks for being so understanding for me.”

Frowning softly, TJ turned on the couch, away from Bucky, the puppy slipping off TJ’s chest so it lay between the cushions and TJ’s small body. It was obvious that TJ may not have been so understanding of Bucky’s situation.

The smile dropped away and Bucky sat, staring in surprise at his brother’s back. Softly, he asked, “Teej? Baby, you mad?”

“You missed my birthday,” TJ said softly, his fingers stroking over the puppy’s fur, very soft and silky.

“I called to explain. Momma and me had a fight and I needed to figure out how to work through it,” Bucky said, looking troubled.

“Okay,” TJ said simply, sniffling softly but refusing to let any tears fall down his cheeks. “Did ya work through it?” He still didn’t turn to face Bucky.

“Yeah, I did,” Bucky answered. “Mrs. Rogers helped me figure things out.” He continued to watch TJ, worry in his eyes, shame creeping up once more. Because he was a freak, he’d hurt TJ. Because he was _this way_ , Momma had to remind him and scold him about being careful. It seemed the older he got, the more worried Momma became. And his stomach hurt, low down near the crotch. Bucky put a hand over the area.

“So, you won’t miss my next birthday?” TJ asked, his voice trembling a bit.

“I don’t plan to miss any more birthdays, baby,” Bucky promised fervently.

“Even if Steve asks?” TJ questioned, “my birthday is my day and you can be with Steve every other day?”

“Teej, I didn’t got to Steve’s to be with _him_. He’d been here, remember? I went to be with Mrs. Rogers so I could figure things out . . . Momma _knows_.”

“But, you both left and then didn’t come back,” TJ replied, finally turning to look at his brother, his eyes shimmering with tears that he didn’t let fall. The puppy huffed as his master moved yet again and settled his head on TJ’s hip.

Bucky stopped trying to explain or defend himself. He could see how it looked to his brother. So, instead, he hung his head and said, softly, “I’m sorry, Teej. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me. You missed my birthday,” TJ pointed out, bringing up a hand to wipe at his nose. “You didn’t even see Becca open your gift.”

Finally giving up, Bucky nodded and said, “sorry. It’s all my fault, I get it.” He got up and left the living room for the kitchen, knowing he’d never get to sleep and just wanting to find some way to stop the aching and the rising nausea. He opened the ice box and pulled out a very small chunk of ice, putting it in his mouth to suck, trying to fight the rising bile.

Bucky could hear rustling about in the living room and then the sound of someone stumbling and landing on the pallet.

Swearing to himself softly, feeling sick and miserable, Bucky hurried to his brother’s side nonetheless. He grabbed the brace and started carefully putting it on TJ’s twisted leg, not saying anything as he sucked the ice.

Suddenly, TJ started to cry and he said, “I’m sorry I made you run ‘way! I shoulda stay outta the kitchen and not bothered you and Momma!”

Bucky paused and said, “TJ, you didn’t do anything. I told you, it was Momma. She was upset at me and we fought and I left. It had nothing to do with you, Teej. It was because,” Bucky swallowed and put a hand over his abdomen, “she knows about me and Steve.”

Eyes widening in horror TJ said, “I didn’t tell! I promise! I promise I didn’t tell! Don’t die, please!”

Touching TJ’s curls with his free hand, Bucky swallowed and whispered, “I know, baby. I know you’d never tell. And I ain’t gonna die. Barf, maybe, but die, no.”

“Are you and Steve gonna get hanged? That’s what you said would happen if I tol’,” TJ whimpered softly.

“I don’t think Momma’s telling the police, so no. I don’t think we’ll get hanged. As long as Momma and Papa don’t tell, either.” Bucky sighed, hand clutching as another spasm hit. He swallowed hard.

“You wanna lie down, Buck? I can get off the pallet if ya want?” TJ offered, his brace only half on by then.

Making a quick decision, Bucky lay down but pulled TJ with him, reaching down to unfasten the brace. “Rather cuddle and sleep, if you’re okay with that?”

TJ nodded, turning in Bucky’s arms and burrowing his face against Bucky’s chest, tucking his head under Bucky’s chin. “I love you, Buck.”

“I love you, Teej. I’m sorry I missed your birthday. I was so scared, I didn’t know what to do. But I don’t plan to miss any more.” He cuddled his brother close, trying very hard not to vomit.

The puppy, TJ hadn’t told Bucky the name yet, let out a puppy sigh and crawled up on top of the pair and lay down.

Bucky barely registered the small weight, closing his eyes as he willed the strange cramping and nausea away. “Night . . . or mornin’, baby. I love you.” He sounded as sick as he felt.

“I love you more,” TJ murmured, already slipping asleep since he hadn’t been able to while Bucky was gone.

Within an hour, Bucky had let go of TJ, curled into a ball with his back turned to his brother, and lay, pale and sweating, trembling a bit. He looked on the verge of vomiting, despite all his efforts. A pain rippled low in his crotch and he groaned then whimpered, trying to stay quiet. Unable to really move, Bucky hardly noticed a small amount of wetness, growing, between his legs. When he did realize, he could really care less that he’s wet himself, too much pain ripping through him.

Within the following hour, TJ awoke to the pained noises his brother emitted and he groggily opened his eyes. Blinking slowly in shock at what he saw, it took him a moment before he screamed, an actual terror filled noise. Bucky was _bleeding_ ; there was blood all over the sheets and his brother looked pale and sweaty.

“Papa! Papa!” TJ cried out, though he shook Bucky to try and get him to move. “Bucky’s dying! Papa!”

Groaning at the rough shaking, Bucky barely had the energy to protest, the cramping in his belly all consuming. He’d only just drifted off and now his brother had reawoken him.

James ran in from the room he shared with Winifred. “TJ? What do you mean Bucky’s dying?” He circled around the couch and saw the boys, and the mess, on the pallet. “My God! Winifred! Win, get in here!”

Luckily, Winnie had already been getting out of bed due to TJ’s screams; she rushed over to Bucky’s side and cursed softly at the sight of the blood between Bucky’s legs. They’d hoped that his womb wouldn’t be functional . . . that he might have some parts of a female but that they’d mostly be barren. “James, get me warm clothes and a hot water bottle and some fresh sheets.”

Nodding, James scooped up TJ and carried him from the living room. “Help me get things together, baby,” he said, distractedly. He felt horrified his elder son had to go through such trauma.

“No!” TJ screamed, fighting full force against his father, “Bucky’s dying! I gotta get back to Bucky!” TJ didn’t care he didn’t have his brace or crutches. He’d get back to Bucky.

Stunned, it took all of James’ strength to hold the boy still so he couldn’t fight. “Thomas James! You settle down right now! I need your help so we can help Bucky!”

“No!” TJ sobbed, batting his tiny fists against James’ strong chest, “Bucky needs me! He’s dying!”

“Bucky is _not_ dying!” James barked out. “He’s bleeding, not dying. Now, I need you to carry the basket for me. The one of fresh cloth . . .” James reached for WInifred’s monthly courses basket.

“D - - don’t have m - - my crutches or - - or my b - - brace,” TJ hiccoughed, unable to walk without the tools.

Stopping and noting the lack of leg support for the child, James swore softly. He nodded and carried the boy and basket back at the same time, offering both down to Winifred, “I got the basket, what else do you need?”

“Warm wet cloths, new sheets, and a hot water bottle,” Winnie repeated, working off Bucky’s soiled clothes and then working on moving the pained teen to a clean section of the pallet.

James nodded and left TJ behind as he rushed off for the rest of the needed supplies. Bucky moaned softly, curling around his stomach. Becca walked in and watched the unfathomable process, noting Bucky bled and cried. “Mama? I heard TJ screaming?”

“Becca, dear, go back to your room and stay with Rosie, okay? Everyone is fine. TJ just got scared is all,” Winifred assured her youngest daughter.

“Momma,” Becca asked in a frightened voice. “Is Bucky _bleeding_ from his privates?” She watched the blood soaked teen writhe.

“Becca, I promise, dear, that I will explain things once I am done with helping Bucky, okay? Please, go to your room and keep Rosie in, too,” Winnie ordered again.

Letting out a whimper, the seven year old girl took off running to get back to her room, waking up her older sister and telling her everything she’d seen out there.

Back in the living room, Winnie rubbed Bucky’s back while she waited on her husband to get the supplies she’d asked for. She’d also enlist James’ help to move Bucky once she got him cleaned up.

“Momma, Bucky’s not dying?” TJ sniffled, face red with tears. The puppy whimpered and shuffled from foot to foot by the edge of the pallet, it’s ears too large for its head.

“No, sweet boy, Bucky will be fine,” Winnie assured, leaning forward to brush back TJ’s curls from his forehead.

Bucky whimpered and gasped out, “my stomach feels like it’s clawing to get out, Momma. What’s wrong with me?” He sounded terrified.

James hurried in and instantly handed over the hot water bottle. He put down the rest of the stuff and hovered. “What can I do, Win?”

“Just stay close, once I clean him up, I’m going to have you help me move him so we can strip the pallet,” Winnie said, immediately forcing Bucky to uncurl so she could set the hot water bottle on his abdomen, right over where the worst of the pain was. “There you go, sweetheart, that should help a bit,” she cooed to her eldest son and then started to wipe up the smeared blood on Bucky’s thighs, “actually, James, go get some of Bucky’s clothes? That way he’s in a fresh outfit.”

Nodding, James left TJ right there on the couch to watch, though that wasn’t his intention. He hurried off to the small dresser kept for the boy’s clothes in their parent’s bedroom.

With the addition of the hot water bottle, Bucky began to relax a little, still whimpering slightly. But, since he’d uncurled, his unusual genitalia was exposed to TJ’s easy view. “Why’s my stomach wanna rip out, Momma?” he whimpered softly.

Sighing softly, brushing her fingers through Bucky’s sweat damp curls, Winnie said, “it’s your monthly cycle, dear, you know how I get them every month? We didn’t know if your womb would be viable or not . . . but, apparently it is. You’ll be okay, it’s normal.”

“What’s wrong with Bucky’s private parts?” TJ sniffled, silent tears still running down his cheeks.

“Nothing’s wrong with them, sweet boy,” Winnie assured her youngest son, “Bucky was born a boy but with some women parts. He’ll be okay.”

Bucky blinked open his eyes and asked, sounding worried, “Rosie and Becca have to go through this, too? Momma, I don’t wanna be a girl. I hate it!”

“Shh . . .” Winnie turned her attention back to Bucky, “you’re not a girl, Bucky, you’re a boy . . . you’re _my_ boy. This we can manage, okay?” Winnie didn’t want to think about the fact that if Bucky had his monthly cycle, then he might start developing breasts and wider hips.

“But I’m turning into a girl now, ain’t I?” Bucky whimpered, too upset to worry about grammar in front of his mother. “And Steve . . . Momma Steve said he loves me, but that was _before_ I turned into a girl.” The fourteen year old closed his eyes and sobbed.

“Bucky,” Winnie soothed her fingers through her son’s curls, “you aren’t turning into a girl. We can figure things out, sweetheart, do you trust me?”

Slowly opening his eyes, Bucky blinked and nodded. “Yes, Momma. You’re the best Momma ever. You didn’t make me be a girl when the doctor said to cut off my penis. Papa told me.”

Smiling softly, Winnie nodded and dropped a kiss to Bucky’s forehead, “that’s right, I didn’t, because I _knew_ you were a boy. I knew that’s what you’d want to be. And you are a boy, Bucky, we’ll just have to work with this, but we can do it.”

Nodding, the heat relaxing him more and more, easing the cramping. Bucky uncurled even more then looked up at TJ above him, sitting on the couch with such wide pale eyes and such ghostly white skin. “It’s okay, Teej. It’s like your club foot. I’m born . . . different.”

“I don’t _bleed_! I thought you were _dying_!” TJ wrapped his thin arms around himself, his eyes latching onto the blood still staining the sheets.

James handed off the clothing to Winifred and scooped up the very light TJ. “That happens when someone has girl parts. Every month, TJ. Let me tell you why.” James and Winifred had always been traditional parents, not telling very personal, private things to their children concerning the opposite gender, but James determined in this case to break tradition. TJ was too worked up. “Shall I tell you with the girls so they know, too?” he asked.

Wiping at his nose with the back of his hand, his face still red with his tears, TJ nodded, still terrified that Bucky was going to die. “I didn’t tell no one, Papa! I promise, I didn’t! I don’t want Bucky to die!”

“Tell?” James blinked and looked to Winifred. “Tell what? When? Teej, baby, you only _just_ found out about Bucky’s extra parts.”

Shaking his head, TJ buried his face in his father’s shoulder and let out a sob, his tiny body trembling violently. “Didn’t want Bucky to die!”

Sharply, to break through TJ’s stubborn fear, James said, “Bucky is not going to die!” He gave his youngest son a shake, “TJ, pay attention. Stop crying and listen to me. No one is going to kill Bucky and he is certainly _not_ bleeding to death!”

TJ’s whole body seemed to flinch at his father’s sharp tone but he didn’t say anything else.

Winnie sighed and finished cleaning up Bucky before padding her son’s underwear with the cloths she used for her own monthly courses. She then helped Bucky get dressed as she asked, gently, “Bucky, do you know what had TJ so worked up?”

“Cause,” Bucky broke down and explained, “he saw me and Steve kissing. He knows the law says if boys do that, they’ll be arrested and maybe killed?” He looked down at his hands, twisting his fingers together. “I know if I’m a girl, no one would care if me and Steve love each other, but . . . I’m a boy, Momma.” HIs tone ended on a sob.

“You are a boy,” Winnie agreed with a nod; she gave James a worried glance and then looked back at Bucky, “and you and Steve . . . will just have to be careful, that’s all. I’m sure Sarah explained it to you?”

Nodding, Bucky whispered, “yes, she did. Momma, why do people hate boys or girls together? Why is it so evil? It’s not murder or disrespect or theft or anything.” He let James change the bedding while he slid, with a soft whimper, onto the couch, settling by TJ, whom James had put back down.

TJ looked down at his hands in his lap, sniffling softly, still trembling, though he did inch closer to his brother.

Bucky wrapped an arm around TJ and hugged him close. “Please, Papa, get the girls. Maybe the secret should be told so they don’t get scared like TJ?” He sounded worried and so very young.

James looked to his wife, who’d always been the one in charge of decisions for the children.

Running her fingers through her own hair, down loose around her shoulders, not put up in her normal braid, Winnie nodded and said, “might be best.”

Nodding, James went to get the girls, knowing they, too, would be scared after Becca had seen the blood and sensed everyone’s worry. Once he brought them out to sit on the couch beside the boys, James sat on the floor and explained reproduction, the way he’d discovered it over the years, adding the parts the doctor had explained when Bucky was an infant. Once finished, he looked at the four children and asked, calmly, “any questions? Concerns?” James took Winifred’s hand.

Rosie blinked wide eyes and then looked over at Bucky and then her father, “you . . . why . . . what’s going to happen now?”

“What do you mean, Rosie girl? What do you think will happen?” James reached over his free hand to stroke down her braids, coming loose since she’d been sleeping.

“Well,” Rosie shrugged her shoulders and said, “if Bucky has woman parts, won’t he get other woman parts, too?”

Sighing, James looked to Winifred. “The doctor thought it might happen.” His eyes begged his wife to help soothe their worries.

“There are things we can do to help Bucky,” Winnie said, “but, we’ll worry about them when we need to. We need to take one step at a time.”

Becca sighed and shook her head. “I don’t see why he doesn’t just be a girl. It’s not like being a boy’s so special. I mean, what’s wrong with staying home and being a Momma? I wanna do that.” The seven year old crossed her arms, pouting.

Bucky shook his head, “I don’t want to be a Momma . . . I want to fix cars and planes. I want to be a boy not a girl.”

In her childish wisdom, Becca said, “well, why can’t a girl fix cars and planes? We’re not stupid. We could learn if someone taught us.”

Softly, James groaned, “I’m raising a pack of rebels.” He seemed more proud than upset by that fact.

“It’s not fair but that’s just the way society works right now, Becca, and we have to play by society’s rules. Hopefully, one day they might change, but we live in this time. Right now, we need to focus on keeping everyone safe, okay? That means you can’t tell anyone about Bucky,” Winnie met her children’s eyes.

Blinking wide pale blue eyes, Becca asked, “why would I tell anyone about Bucky? It’s not nice to talk about the private parts to people, Momma. I want to talk about planes and cars, not making babies.” Like all young children, her dreams and desires changed regularly.

“Well, just keep it that way, okay?” Winnie offered a reassuring smile to her youngest daughter.

Rolling her eyes, Becca yawned and said, “I don’t tell tales, Momma. And neither does TJ. We’re good.”

Bucky gave his sister a hug then hugged TJ once more. “Thank you,” he said softly. Looking to his eleven year old sister, Rosie, Bucky offered a small smile. “Rosie? I hope it doesn’t hurt a real girl so bad.”

Rosie shrugged her shoulders, “I’ll deal with it once it happens, no use worrying ‘bout it before it happens.”

“Your Momma could help with that better than I know how,” James admitted. “So, anything else we need to discuss or is it time to try to get back to sleep?” He reached over to stroke TJ’s curls, almost instinctively since they all tended to pet TJ.

“I think it might be time to get some rest, all of us, it’s been a very stressful few days,” Winnie nodded, rising to her feet. “Come on, Rosie, Becca . . .”

Sliding off the couch, Becca took her mother’s hand and announced, in a rather neutral tone, “the puppy peed.” She turned and tugged her mother towards the bedrooms. Rosie slipped off the couch as well, heading in the same direction.

James stood. “I’ll get this.” He began cleaning up puppy pee but not yelling at the dog, since it wouldn’t help after the fact.

TJ still didn’t say anything, so unusually quiet for the seven year old. He attempted to get off the couch to move to the pallet but he’d forgotten about not wearing a brace or having his crutches. TJ collapsed to the floor, right next to the puppy. Sniffling, TJ reached out to stroke the puppy’s ear.

Alone with his brother, their father having to go clean the soiled laundry the puppy had used for a potty, Bucky slid with a wince from the couch and reached to straighten TJ and check both smaller beings for hurts. “Teej? You’ve been so good keeping my secret. I’m proud of you.” He adjusted the hot water bottle on his abdomen again.

Shrugging his shoulders, TJ wiped his wrist against his eyes and he muttered, “didn’t do nothing. I jus’ keep messin’ up and makin’ you sad and hurt.”

Sighing, Bucky wrapped his arms more securely around TJ and gave him a big hug, tightly cuddling him close. “I _love_ you, TJ. And people always accidentally upset people they love. It’s okay. I don’t think you did anything to hurt or upset me. It’s my stupid freak body. It decided to start doing stupid things.”

“Not a freak,” TJ murmured, rubbing his eyes again, “if you’re a freak, then I’m a freak.”

Pausing in shock that TJ would think such a thing, Bucky slowly smiled and nuzzled TJ’s temple. “You’re smarter than me, you know? And you’re right. I can’t be a freak, because you aren’t a freak. You’re perfect even with that bum leg. You gotta keep reminding me that we’re perfect, okay? I forget sometimes.” Bucky hugged again, offering TJ a smile.

“You’re perfect,” TJ nodded, nuzzling at Bucky’s neck.

Smiling wider, Bucky whispered, “hey, Teej. Since you’re so much smarter than me, can you tell me something I don’t know?”

Blinking in confusion, TJ said, “but . . . I don’t know what you don’t know?”

Nodding, Bucky said, “I don’t know your puppy’s name . . .”

“Oh . . . his name is Luna ‘cause Luna means moon and wolves howl at the moon,” TJ replied, stroking Luna’s ear.

“Wow,” Bucky teased, chuckling, “that’s a real long name. Can I just call him _Luna_?”

Looking up at Bucky with his naturally wide eyes, TJ nodded, “that’s his name, Buck, Luna. That’s what I jus’ said.”

Leaning close, Bucky said, still teasing, “no, you said _‘his name is Luna ‘case Luna means moon and wolves howl at the moon.’_ And I told you that was a long name.”

“Oh . . . okay,” TJ shrugged again, stroking his fingers through Luna’s fur. “I meant to say his name is Luna.”

Bucky whispered in his brother’s ear, “I was teasing, TJ. Trying to make a joke. Pretty stupid, huh?”

Blinking, TJ shook his head frantically, “I didn’t say you were stupid!”

Finally giving his brother another squeeze, Bucky said, “I didn’t say that, either. I said my joke was stupid. You’re being just as silly as me. Let’s get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” TJ agreed, feeling tired and overwhelmed with everything that had happened. “Sleep.” He crawled up onto the pallet, dragging his right leg behind him until he settled on the pallet.

Bucky settled right beside him and settled the puppy near TJ’s tummy. “Night, perfect little brother,” he whispered softly, stroking TJ’s curls.

“Goodnight, Bucky,” TJ murmured in return, letting his eyes slip shut.

**************

August 19, 1931:

Five days later, Bucky finally agreed to let Steve come over, having refused without explanation until then. He sat in the dining area, stroking Luna on his lap, listening to TJ practice his reading. He felt lonely without Steve, who’d been his constant companion out of school, aside from TJ of course. But there was a difference between a seven year old and a thirteen year old for comprehension and understanding. And Bucky wanted to be sure Steve wouldn’t turn away from him now that Bucky’s body had betrayed him so fully.

There was a knock on the door, most likely Steve arriving.

Bucky looked up and waited. Steve had long been granted the right to just walk in; the Barnes family never locked their doors. He waited, biting his bottom lip in anticipation and worry.

The door opened and Steve called, “Buck? You home?”

“In the kitchen,” Bucky called out, sounding a bit more faint than he’d intended. He continued petting TJ’s puppy, though his brother had fallen silent at Steve’s voice. Bucky offered TJ a smile.

TJ looked at Steve entering the kitchen and then back down at his book. “Gonna play with Luna in the living room,” he announced and called for his dog before grabbing his crutches and moving out off the kitchen.

“Hey, Buck, how’re you feelin’?” Steve asked softly, slipping into one of the chairs at the table.

Bucky looked down at his hands then back at his best friend. He suddenly leaned over to Steve and wrapped his arms around the other boy’s skinny neck, sobbing softly. “My body wants to be a woman and I don’t want to,” he shook his head. “I started my menstrual cycle the night after TJ’s birthday, Stevie. I’m sorry.” Bucky had no clue if Steve even knew what he talked about, but that didn’t really register in the bruent’s mind.

Blinking, Steve immediately wrapped his arms around Bucky and said, “Mama said it might happen soon . . . are you okay?”

“Better now. It’s gone away this morning. It felt like something was clawing its way through my stomach. I hate it. And there was blood everywhere. TJ thought I was dying, and now they all know about me . . . and my stupid freak body.” Bucky didn’t raise his face, ashamed of his own body.

“I don’t think you’re a freak,” Steve said softly, dropping a kiss to Bucky’s temple, “and I doubt they do, either.”

“TJ says I can’t be a freak or he is. I love that little boy so much, Steve. He makes things better, you know?” Bucky sighed and finally lifted his face. “I hate this though. I wish they could do something to get rid of it all.” Drawing a deep breath, Bucky said, “I was so worried during my _Bar Mitzvah_ last year that the Rabbi would call me a liar and make me never go back to synagogue. What happens if he finds out _now_?”

“No one is gonna find out if you don’t want them to,” Steve assured Bucky. “I love you.”

“You really love me? Even though I’m a boy _and_ a girl?” Bucky studied Steve’s face, knowing what Steve said the week before but still needing reassurances. After all, they were quite young. Steve could change his mind and go for someone _normal_ if he wanted.

“Like I said, you’re a boy, because that’s what _you_ want to be. I love you . . .” Steve said, stroking Bucky’s cheek. “You have girl parts, sure, but you’re a boy.”

“Stevie,” Bucky whispered, dropping his eyes once more. “When we’re older, and we want to . . . get closer. You can be in my girl parts so you can be closer to me.” He flushed horribly in embarrassment.

“Woah, Buck, we’re a long ways from that, okay?” Steve gave his friend a reassuring smile. “I want you any way that you’re comfortable with. When it comes time for . . . that, we’ll reassess and come up with what’s best for everyone.”

Bucky threw his arms around Steve in a tighter hug and whispered, “okay. Yeah, that sounds good, Steve.” He felt relief wash over him, knowing Momma would be happy if he told her Steve didn’t want to . . . do that with him any time soon. Bucky knew Momma worried about that. “I love you, Stevie.” Pausing, he asked, softly, “we can still kiss and stuff, right? I promise that won’t put a baby in me.”

“Of course we can kiss and stuff,” Steve laughed and leaned forward to kiss Bucky’s lips. “I love you, too.”

“Wanna meet TJ’s puppy? He’s dyin’ to show him off,” Bucky suggested, “It was his birthday that got messed up.”

“TJ didn’t seem too happy with me when I got here . . .” Steve answered softly, worrying at his bottom lip.

“He’s worried I want to be with you and not him,” Bucky sighed.

“You told him that’s not what’s happening, right?” Steve asked, watching Bucky.

Nodding, Bucky pulled away and said, “yeah, but I think he didn’t believe me. It’s why I think you should ask to hang out with Teej and his dog specifically, so he doesn’t feel you want me all to yourself all the time?”

Steve nodded and looked at the living room and then back at Bucky. He slipped out of the chair and headed into the room. Bucky stood and followed, smiling in pleasure that Steve wanted to try to keep TJ happy, too. “Hey, Teej. We’re done talking about what happened to me. Want company?”

Looking up at the two older boys from where he sat on the floor, playing with Luna, TJ shrugged his shoulders and said, “if you want . . .” He looked back down at Luna.

“Hey, Teej, I hear you got a new dog for your birthday, what’s his name?” Steve asked, crouching down in front of TJ.

“Luna,” TJ commented softly.

Trying to joke with TJ, Bucky said, “TJ tried to tease me and tell me something really long for Luna’s name, but he was just joking with me.”

Scrunching his nose, TJ muttered, “that’s not what I meant.”

Letting out a soft sigh, Bucky sank next to TJ and stroked his hair. “You wanna play a game? Let you be the cop and I’ll be the bad guy?”

“Can’t be a cop with a bum leg,” TJ murmured, looking down at his right leg stretched out in front of him.

Frowning, Bucky said, sharply, “what’s wrong, Teej? You never had a problem being a cop before.”

TJ shrugged his shoulders, looking down at Luna again.

“Well, you know, you have Luna now, Teej, Luna can help you if you get tired. I bet Luna can outrun even Bucky . . . and Bucky’s pretty fast, ain’t he?” Steve gave TJ a reassuring smile.

TJ looked at Steve and then at Bucky, shrugging again as he pet Luna’s fur, “I guess . . . cops have dogs?”

“Sergeant O’Malley down on Third has a German Shepherd,” Bucky jumped in, eagerly. “And if you want, I can hide on the roof and you and Luna have to find me to put me in jail?”

TJ worried at his bottom lip and asked, softly, “you really think I could be a cop, Buck?”

Lifting TJ’s chin with one hand, Bucky smiled, confidence in his eyes. “TJ, I think you can be anything you want. And with your brace and crutches, you’re faster than Steve, and he’s got two good legs. I think if you keep practicing, you might even win a race with _me_ someday.”

“Not uh, you’re the fastest guy in the whole world, Buck . . .” TJ said, a small smile finally tugging on his lips.

“Not as fast as Papa,” Bucky laughed. “When it’s time for supper, he can beat even a race horse!” Bucky cuddled TJ.

TJ giggled softly, temporarily forgetting his insecurities for the moment, “maybe one day I’ll be faster than Papa?”

Bucky nodded. “I think with lots of practice, you _will_ be faster than Papa. You know, Steve had a present for your birthday but because I got so upset then sick, he forgot to give it to you. Want it now?” Bucky grinned at Steve then back at TJ.

“Okay,” TJ nodded, looking eager.

Steve smile and grabbed a bag off the table that hadn’t been touched since Steve set it there a few days before. He handed it over, “happy birthday, Teej.”

TJ took the bag and opened it, gasping as he pulled out a handmade stuffed wolf that looked a lot like the wolf in the toy shop that Bucky and Steve had seen.

Bucky bounced on the couch like an excited child. “It’s gorgeous! Your Mom did wonderful, Steve!”

“Yeah, she did great,” Steve agreed, smiling widely, “nowhere as cool as Luna, but I hope you like it, TJ?”

“I love it! Thanks, Steve,” TJ hugged the toy to his chest.

Bucky reached over and ruffled TJ’s hair. “Gonna give it a name?”

“Don’t know yet, gotta think on it,” TJ smiled at his brother.

Nodding, Bucky rose to his feet and stooped to check TJ’s leg brace. “Hey, Teej, think I can show you how to get it on by yourself? You’re a big boy now.”

“I don’t think I can get it on by myself, Buck, I can’t bend that much,” TJ worried at his bottom lip.

Nodding, Bucky eased a hand over TJ’s back and started pushing him to bend over, as if touching his toes. “I think you can do it easy, TJ,” he smiled, chuckling.

Wincing as the burn started in his back, TJ tried to reach his toes but came up a few inches short, “but that hurts, Buck.”

Bucky stopped as soon TJ indicated. “So, we practice that, too. You can learn to stretch your back. And you can bend that knee, Teej, carefully. Just enough to slide the brace on the foot then ease it back out again and fasten buckles as you go? Maybe by the time you’re eight or nine you can do it.” Bucky stroked TJ’s curls and made sure the brace sat properly and the buckles held firmly. He offered the crutches to his little brother. “I want to help you do anything you can think of, including be able to get your own brace on without waiting for someone. Right?”

“Jus’ in case you ain’t around?” TJ asked, looking worried once more.

Nodding, Bucky sighed, “Momma and Papa said I’ll get that bad stomach cramping every month, Teej. It’s bad enough I don’t even want to move.”

TJ nodded and tried to stretch again, holding it long after the burn had started up, “then, I’ll take my brace off and put it on all by myself. Don’t wanna bother . . .”

Bucky eased TJ back out of the stretch, let him rest, and helped him stretch again. “Stretch slow and easy, baby,” he instructed. “And you aren’t a bother, but when I get sick, I’m a bear. I know. And when I go to school or grow up and get a job, you’ll be able to be independant, too.”

TJ shrugged his shoulders, “I’ll get it, Buck, I promise. I won’t need no one’s help.”

Bucky helped TJ try ten stretches then stopped him from any more. “Ten a day, baby. Okay? Don’t push so much you hurt your back.” Bucky knelt down in front of TJ and took his hands. “And I want you to always come to me if you need something. Just because I want to help you be an independent man someday, doesn’t mean I don’t want to help you out. Okay?”

Scrunching up his nose, TJ nodded, looking down at his brace with a sigh. “Okay, Buck.”

“Wanna go show Luna the roof after we take him to poop? Then, once he’s used to sniffing it, I can hide and you guys can find me,” Bucky offered.

“Yeah, okay,” TJ nodded, easing to his feet using the crutches, but something still felt a bit off about the normally bubbly boy.

“Teej?” Bucky asked, instantly alert for his brother’s moods. “You okay? Did I hurt you by stretching you?”

“Nah, I’m good,” TJ said dismissively, “c’mon, Luna needs to poo. He’s sniffin’ a lot.” And with that, the little boy whistled for the puppy, who bounded after him, and walked out of the apartment.

Sighing, Bucky looked at Steve. “I don’t think I’m helping him feel better, Stevie. I’m trying so hard for him.”

“Just give him some time, Buck, the kid can’t be rainbows and sunshine all the time. We’ll jus’ be here for him when he needs us,” Steve told Bucky, giving the brunet’s hand a squeeze before calling, “hey, speedy! Wait for us short-legged folk!” Steve gave Bucky a wink and hurried after the little boy.

**************

August 28, 1931:

“Papa, why can’t I go play in the water with Bucky and Steve and Rosie and Becca?” TJ pouted softly, forced to stay on a blanket on top of the sand, his arms crossed over his chest. He watched as the other children played in the cool water.

“Because you’ll get sand in the brace, TJ,” James answered for the third time. He had a book in one hand, the other firmly on TJ’s head, stroking his curls occasionally. “Don’t want to get sand in that thing, do you? It will hurt and stop working right.”

“Why can’t I jus’ take the brace _off_?” TJ grumped.

James lifted his eyes and sighed. “Win? Why can’t TJ take the brace off and go play in the ocean with the others?” He always deferred to his wife in the case of the children; it was their arrangement at their wedding: James worked and brought in the money, Winifred had complete say of house and children.

“He doesn’t know how to swim, James, if you’re willing to hold him in the water, then he can go in the water,” Winifred sighed softly.

Blinking, James said, “you know I never learned to swim, Win. I don’t do oceans. Current and all that.” James shook his head.

“I know, that’s why he has to stay up here,” Winnie sighed, having wished she’d thought to keep TJ at home with James for the family outing to the beach. She should have known it’d cause a lot of problems with the little boy who wouldn’t be able to do much.

James put his book aside. “Why don’t I fill pails with water and we can build a sand castle, TJ? You like that, right?”

Sighing, TJ tore his eyes from Becca giggling and splashing in the water to look up at his father, “okay . . .”

WIth a last pat to TJ’s curls, James heaved himself up and scooped up two pails. He headed for the water and stooped down, avoiding getting wet as much as possible. Once James had water, he carried it back and sat down beside his young son. “Okay, let’s start building. You want the blue shovel or the pink?

“Blue,” TJ said, picking up the blue shovel and beginning to build a sandcastle with his father, his eyes continuously moving back to look at the others in the water while he was stuck to the safety of his blanket.

Several hours passed before Bucky tumbled to the next blanket, laughing, soaked and sandy and beginning to show a slight burn to his skin. His loose swimming trousers remained tied tightly around his narrow hips, not revealing to the outside world his secret. “Hey,” Bucky panted, grinning, “Teej built a mansion! Gonna be an architect someday!”

Rosie collapsed next to her older brother, just as soaked and showing the beginnings of sunburns on her cheeks and shoulders. “The water is such a nice temperature, Momma!”

Glancing over from her own book, looking at Becca and Steve as they came back from the water as well, Winnie nodded and shut the novel, “my, all of you are getting burned! I think it’s time to get out of this sun. James? You and TJ done building the mansion?” 

James proudly grinned at his young son. “What do you think, TJ? Is it done?”

“Yeah, I think so, Papa,” TJ nodded, glancing over at the ocean once more before looking back up at his father.

Nodding, James dampened a part of a towel and made sure to wipe TJ’s hands clean of sand. He checked that his son didn’t have sand in his brace then lifted the boy carefully. “Everyone gather things up and we’ll walk back to the tram station.”

Bucky hauled himself up and began gathering the pails and towels, grinning widely at TJ. “That’s the best one yet, Teej. Beautiful!”

“Thanks, Buck,” TJ murmured, laying his head on James’ broad shoulder, his eyes locked on the ocean until it disappeared from sight when they turned the corner to wait for the tram to go back home.


	5. A Bid for Independence, a Bid for Safety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Pedophilia, No-con on a Minor, Era-typical Homophobia, Intersex, Anxiety and Fear, Trauma, Severe Illness**

August 29, 1931:

“Bucky? Bucky? Wake up,” Winnie’s very worried voice and gentle shaking of her son’s shoulder woke Bucky up just as the sun began to rise.

“Momma?” Bucky sleepily questioned. “What’s wrong?” He sat up and yawned in the early light.

“Did TJ tell you he was going anywhere?” Winnie asked, “his crutches are gone but his brace is right by the pallet. I’ve already checked the bathroom . . .”

Bucky blinked and looked around. “Luna’s right here.” He stood and said, “don’t know where he’d go, but I’ll check the roof, okay?” Bucky pulled on a shirt over his pajama pants and hurried out, shoving his feet in slippers on the way.

Up on the roof, Bucky called out, “Teej? You here, baby?” He looked in all their hiding spots and found no sign of the little boy. Hurrying back downstairs, Bucky said, “he’s not there. Where would he go?”

“I don’t know,” Winnie looked worried, tugging her shawl over her shoulders, “but, we need to find him. Why wouldn’t he bring his brace or Luna?”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky said, “because he can’t get it on without help, Momma. Did he say anything about somewhere he wanted to go but we didn’t get to do yet?”

“Yesterday, he wanted to swim but neither your father or I know how, so we couldn’t hold him in the water to play,” Winnie answered, meeting her son’s eyes.

Stopping his restless movements, Bucky looked at his mother incredulously. “Momma, I could have taken him in! No one said TJ even liked the water.”

“He’s never been in the water and yesterday was the first time he’d really complained about it,” Winnie said, frowning softly at Bucky’s tone.

“I’ll go see if he went back to the beach, Momma. Maybe send Rosie to check the river, in case he went somewhere closer,” Bucky said, turning for the door.

“You don’t think he went to the beach by himself do you? That’s almost two miles away!” Winnie gasped, eyes widening in fear.

Stopping, back to his mother, Bucky said, “yes, Momma. I think TJ went two miles to the beach so he could try to swim. I’m gonna get him before he drowns himself.” Bucky opened the door and hurried out, not even changing into clothes.

Bucky managed to catch the tram quickly and took off running before it had fully stopped at the beach stop. Cupping his mouth, Bucky called, “TJ! TJ Barnes!”

At the water’s edge, Bucky could see a very small figure getting into the ocean, the figure moving with a weird-looking hop, a pair of crutches lying at the end of the dry sand.

Running down to his brother's side, right into the water despite his sleep pants, Bucky lifted TJ out of the waves and cuddled him desperately, “There you are! I was terrified you’d drowned!”

“I wanna swim!” TJ cried, trying to get out of Bucky’s hold, “I can do it! I wanna swim, Buck! I wanna be like you!” The little boy’s legs were soaked but he hadn’t gotten much deeper than his mid thigh.

“If you stop fighting me, TJ, I’ll discuss teaching you to swim. But if you still struggle, I’ll tell Momma and you’ll not get to the beach for a long time,” Bucky said in a low voice of warning.

TJ’s lips pushed out in a pout but he stopped trying to fight out of Bucky’s arms, “I . . . I jus’ want to swim . . .” the boy cried softly.

Nodding, Bucky sank to a sitting position in the cold ocean water, TJ still in his arms but now waist deep in the water once more. “And I’ll teach you, baby. Simple as that. Ask and I can do. This way, you can make sure to get saved if a big wave hits you. Okay?” Bucky stroked TJ’s hair with a wet hand.

“You - - you’ll teach me?” TJ asked, looking up at his older brother with wide eyes, his hand moving through the cool, salty water, enjoying the feel of it moving through his fingers.

Smiling at last, Bucky nodded. “Sure I will. No one ever told me you wanted to go in the water, Teej, or I’d have taken you ages ago. So, since we’re here and wet. Why don’t I show you now?” He eased TJ onto the sandy bottom, holding him steady in the waves. “See how strong the water is? It can knock even the strongest man from his feet. So, you have to always be aware of your surroundings, okay? Swimming is great for a bad leg, because you don’t really need legs or even arms. You can float and move like a fish. Remember dancing? Like that.”

“Swimming is like dancing . . .” TJ murmured, pale eyes looking down at the water. He grinned and looked at Bucky, splashing his older brother like he’d seen Becca do the day before. He giggled as the cool water splashed up against Bucky’s chest.

Bucky grinned and carefully splashed TJ back, not aiming for the boy’s face. “If we stay shallow until you learn, we can splash. But if you wanna learn to swim, gotta go a bit deeper, okay? You tell _me_ what you want, Teej.”

“I wanna learn how to swim! Please, Buck?” TJ begged.

Nodding, Bucky stood and lifted TJ, carrying him until the older boy stood waist deep. “Okay, now it will feel like baby steps right now, but you’re a quick learner so will catch on real fast. Just be patient.” Bucky held TJ flat in the water. “Okay, move your body, your limbs, anything. Keep your head above water or turn it to the side away from your splashing arm so you can breathe.

TJ craned his head so it was above the water line and then started to move his limbs in the water, splashing awkwardly for the first several strokes before it seemed the boy got more control and started to doggie-paddle.

After TJ caught on better, Bucky eased his hands from the boy’s torso and waist, letting him swim on his own. Bucky watched TJ very carefully to make sure he didn’t get hurt or swamped. With pride shining in his voice, Bucky said, “you’re swimming, Teej.”

“I’m doin’ it! Bucky! Look!” TJ grinned, moving through the water, by no means a great swimmer but he would definitely manage in calmer waters.

“James! Thomas!” their mother’s voice called through the morning air sharply, anger and fear very evident. “Get out of the water!”

“Right here, Momma,” Bucky called back. “TJ’s safe!” He scooped up his brother without protest, however, and carried him back to the beach. “He can swim real well!” Bucky stopped in front of Winifred, grinning and hugging TJ. “Like a fish, Momma.”

“TJ, honey, are you okay?” Winnie started checking over TJ frantically. Looking back up at Bucky, she hissed, “what were you thinking, James?”

“He was already in the water trying when I came up,” Bucky explained, frowning. “So, I figured I’d teach him so he doesn’t drown himself.”

“He could have hurt himself! Dammit, James!” Winnie shook her head, furious.

Frowning still, Bucky shot back, “I wasn’t the one who told him to go swimming, Momma. I found him and taught him _not_ to hurt himself.”

“You’re _not_ his father, Bucky!” Winnie suddenly snapped, “you don’t get to make those decisions!”

Stunned, Bucky said, “you wanted me to let him drown? My God, Momma, how can you even hint that I shouldn’t help Teej!”

“You make decisions for him without consulting your father and I!” Winnie snapped, her normally calm attitude gone for the moment.

TJ flinched and whimpered, burying his face in Bucky’s neck. Bucky cuddled him closer and stared in surprised anger back at their mother. “Of course I made decisions for him! I’ve been watching out for him since he was in diapers. If he isn’t taught to swim, he’ll try to on his own and then we’ll lose him to drowning.”

“Not if we keep him away from the water!” Winnie bit out, eyes narrowing in anger.

“Well, he certainly made it all the way here on his own, Momma!” Bucky shot back, his own eyes sparking an angry steel-blue.

“Because you fill his head with these ideas that he can do these things, Bucky!” Winnie threw her hands in the air in exasperation, “he _can’t_. He needs to be kept where he’ll be safe!”

“Momma, are you blind? He _can_ and he _has_! You can’t lock him up and hope he’ll always want to stay tame inside with books and things. He’s a healthy boy who wants to be just like all the other children . . .” Bucky argued.

“He’s not like all the other children! He has _never_ been like all the other children, James!” Winnie finally shouted, drawing an actual sob from TJ, who kept his head buried against Bucky’s neck, his arms clutching desperately around his brother’s frame.

Bucky shouted right back at her, cuddling TJ protectively close, “you can’t stop him from growing up. You’re trying to make him crippled and dependant. But what happens when you and Papa are gone? He needs to grow up, Momma, independant and willing to try things for himself!”

“You never have and never will be his father, Bucky. You don’t have a say in how your father and I raise TJ,” Winnie’s voice fell quieter, though the icy coldness in her tone was perhaps more frightening than her shouts.

Falling just as quiet, Bucky said, quite clearly, “you made me part of the decision process when you needed me to help take over. _You_ were the one who wanted me to watch over and teach him, protect him and guide him. _Now_ you’re trying to say I’m not allowed to do what _you_ wanted me to do in the first place. You won’t let him try to live. You want to smother TJ until he’s an invalid in a chair to be coddled and petted in your kitchen every day.”

Eyes still narrowed, Winnie ordered, “we’re going home _now_.” She stooped down to pick up TJ’s crutches and then turned to start walking off the beach.

Nuzzling TJ’s neck, Bucky whispered, “I knew you could swim, baby. Like a fish you were. I’m so proud.” Bucky began following his mother home.

TJ continued to hold on desperately to Bucky’s neck, his twisted right leg wrapped around his brother’s hip and his face still buried away, dampening Bucky’s shirt with his tears. Once they got to the apartment building and Winnie opened the door for Bucky, she held it, letting her son carry TJ into the small home.

With a nod of thanks, not saying a word to Winifred, Bucky walked in and down towards the kitchen. He settled TJ on the counter and ran some water, peeling TJ’s salt-water encrusted clothing off. Bucky started bathing his nude brother, still without talking above a murmur of pride and love to TJ.

TJ’s face was completely red and splotchy with tears, eyes swollen and irritated. The little boy’s breathing came in rough, shaky pants as if he wasn’t able to bring in a decent amount of air. “I - - I’m sorry! Jus’ wanted to s - - swim!”

Nodding, Bucky said, just as softly as he had been, “of course. But you see, I don’t think it’s the swimming that upset and frightened Momma so much. It was you going to the beach by yourself without someone there. You should never swim alone. No one should, Teej. In case of cramps or rough waves or something. Do you understand, baby?”

Sniffling, TJ nodded and dropped his head, looking shamed and upset, “y - - yes, B . . . Bucky. D - - don’t go . . . go swimming by m - - myself.”

“There’s my good boy,” Bucky murmured. “You’re so brave and clever, Teej.”

“D - - didn’t mean to . . . to get you in - - in trouble with . . . with Momma . . .” TJ hiccoughed, wrapping his thin arms around his nude chest.

Huffing, Bucky shook his head. “Seems like she’s just always mad at me for something nowadays. Maybe she hates that I’m so mixed up. I don’t know. But it’s okay. You’re safe and all clean. Let’s get you dressed for the day, okay?” Bucky began drying the boy off, still ignoring his mother.

Nodding again, TJ let Bucky pick him up, used to Bucky seeing him nude by then. Mostly, Bucky helped him bathe so nothing about that morning felt unordinary. “I wanna live - - live with jus’ you . . . Buck . . .”

“Ah, well, that’d be fun, wouldn’t it? But you see, Momma’s right. You, by law, need to stay with your legal guardian, and that’s Momma and Papa. They love you very much. Momma just doesn’t understand what it’s like to be a growing boy who wants to be out doing things.” Bucky pet TJ’s damp curls. He picked up the child and carried him to the living room, setting him on the couch in a towel. “I’ll get you some day clothes, okay?” the grubby, soaking wet teen asked.

“Okay,” TJ agreed with a nod, patting the couch so Luna hopped up and curled up right next to him with a distressed whimper. The puppy put his head on his paws and watched Bucky intently with his silver eyes, his large ears sticking straight up.

Nodding, Bucky said, “good boy,” though it wasn’t certain which he spoke to: boy or dog. Turning, Bucky hurried to his parents room to get clothing for his brother and himself. He noticed his father still slept in the bed which surprised the teen. He’d have thought his mother would have woken Papa up . . . unless Papa wasn’t well; he had been unusually quiet the day before. Frowning, Bucky brought the clothes out and handed TJ’s to him. “Here you go, put on your drawers?”

“Yes, Bucky,” TJ agreed and took the drawers, sliding them up his legs and tying them around his narrow hips. He did the same when Bucky offered a pair of shorts. “Can you help me put on my brace, Buck?”

“I will once Momma gives it over,” Bucky reassured his brother. He pet TJ’s curls and offered the shirt. “Finish dressing, Teej?”

TJ took the shirt and pulled it over his head, smoothing it down over his torso. “Maybe Momma doesn’t want me to walk?”

Snorting, Bucky said softly, “doubt that. Then she’d have to carry you all the time, and she’s far too busy for that. Most likely she didn’t want Luna chewing on the leather so picked it up, Teej.”

When Winnie returned with the crutches and brace, the woman looked between Bucky and TJ with a soft frown. She wordlessly knelt by the edge of the couch to begin helping TJ put on the brace.

TJ, however, pushed his mother’s hands away and said, “no! I want Bucky to help me!”

Bucky knelt instantly, as always, reaching to help without a word. Winnie sighed and stood back up, leaving the room once more. Once the brace had been settled on the boy, correctly and comfortably, Bucky stood. “Gonna get cleaned up, Teej. You try and behave for Momma for a bit. Quiet reading and stuff so she can feel that you won’t go running off? She worries about you, Teej baby.”

Scrunching his nose, TJ pushed his bottom lip out in a pout as he crossed his arms over his chest, “she thinks I’m a stupid baby.”

Sighing, Bucky ran a hand through his own dirty hair and said, “so, show her you aren’t a baby. Don’t whine and pout at her? The stupid part we can prove otherwise if given a chance. Practice your reading out loud to Luna while I bathe?”

Letting out a deep sigh, TJ nodded reluctantly, “okay . . .”

Nodding, stroking TJ’s curls once more, Bucky said, “there’s my good boy.” He turned and headed for the bathing room, outside the apartment and down the hall: a communal bathroom.

Only minutes passed before something slammed heavily over and over on the front door, Bucky screaming, sounding odd, “let me in!”

Winnie hurried to the front door and opened it, her anger at her son disappearing with the screaming, “Bucky?”

Bucky pushed inside the apartment, trembling, his shirt off and his pants untied and falling down, one hand clutching them. Bucky slammed the door shut then began to cry, hard, and slid to the floor, hugging himself. There was no sign of the missing shirt.

“Bucky? What in the world?” Winnie crouched down to Bucky’s level, reaching out to touch his knee, “Bucky, what happened? Are you hurt?”

Bucky launched himself at Winifred and hugged her, hard, trembling and sobbing. “He . . . he . . . he . . .”

“Bucky, tell me what happened?” Winnie coaxed, hugging her eldest son and rocking him gently.

“Went bathroom . . . Mr. Harver . . . there . . .” Bucky sobbed, not lifting his face. “Wash . . . he . . . he grab . . . _under_ . . . said . . . said . . . would . . . show me . . . real man . . .” Bucky shook his head and tried to burrow against his mother, curling as small as his tall, lanky frame allowed.

Paling a few shades, having heard the stories of Keith Harver, their landlord’s brother, Winnie asked, “Bucky . . . did he do anything other than touch you?”

“Tried . . . pull my . . . pants . . . reached in . . . touched . . . touched . . .” Bucky shook his head and sobbed hard.

“James!” Winifred called, hoping her husband would wake up.

Despite his headache and cough, developed slowly as the day before wore on, James pulled himself from bed at the commotion. Winifred usually dealt with the children, so he’d let the previous shouts and sobs go unchecked. But when Winnie screamed like that, James knew something was terribly wrong. He shuffled from the bedroom and blinked in the morning light. “What happened?” Worry rose as he noticed the look of fear and worry on TJ’s face and how Bucky sobbed and clutched and burrowed.

“James, Keith Harver tried to rape Bucky in the washroom, touched his private areas,” Winnie looked up at her husband, looking thunderous.

Anger instantly shuttered James Barnes’ eyes and he grabbed for an old wood baseball bat he kept by the front door. Storming from the room, he growled, “check the girls. I’ll kill him.”

“I wanna help, Papa!” TJ called, trying to get off the couch, grabbing for his crutches. Mr. Harver had made Bucky cry and TJ would be sure to teach Mr. Harver a lesson!

Becca came from the other room, clutching her stuffed rag doll, dressed in a short sleep dress for the warm summer. “Momma? What’s happening? Why’s everyone screaming? Is Bucky hurt?” She watched TJ’s struggle then went over to help him, unsure what he was up to or why.

Rosie followed her younger sister out, looking confused and sleepy. Why were they always woken by screaming lately?

“Rosie, Becca, has Mr. Harver ever hurt you or touched you in a way that made you uncomfortable?” Winnie asked, still holding Bucky.

“Mr. Harver?” Becca looked surprised and shrugged. “He likes to put me on his lap and rub my back while he talks. He says I’m growing up to be a really pretty girl, Momma. Once he gave us candy to see Rosie without her shirt,” Becca rolled her eyes. “Rosie said no and we came back home.”

“From this moment on, none of you are allowed to be anywhere near Mr. Harver, you understand me? If he comes up to you, you tell him that your Momma and Papa said not to be around him and you come straight home - - TJ! What are you doing? Get back here!” Winnie, who’d been trying to get information out of the girls, had missed TJ getting his crutches and leaving out the front door.

TJ continued on despite his mother’s orders, intent on helping Papa teach Mr. Harver a lesson. He heard shouting in the washroom; figuring that’s where Papa and Mr. Harver were, TJ continued on his way, hobbling into the often damp washroom.

James had Mr. Harver, a fairly good looking man in his forties, backed into a corner. Holding his bat in a threatening manner, the normally complacent James growled out, “. . . never again. If I hear of you even touching an arm on any of the children, boy or girl, I’ll have you before the police. And don’t think you frighten me because of who your brother is, Harver. I’ll have him before the police for harboring a sicko who likes to prey on children!”

The man looked suitably frightened and didn’t even try to talk his way out of things. Instead, he nodded and pressed back against the wall. His eyes fell on the sight of the crippled boy who lived down the hall and he breathed out, “your little one’s wandering, Barnes . . .”

Without looking, James said, “TJ? You see this man? If he ever tries to touch you or your sisters or brother, you have my permission to wallop him with your crutches, even if they break. I’ll be prouder if you do break them on him in defense of the others!”

“Yes, Papa!” TJ called back, watching the scene unfolding with wide eyes. He’d never seen his father like this before. “I can teach ‘im a lesson for makin’ Bucky cry!”

Mr. Harver finally managed to slip around James and away from him, backing towards the door, nervously eying TJ as he did so. James watched him go, hefting the bat in silent warning, glaring at the other man.

Despite Mr. Harver being older and about five times larger than him, TJ puffed out his thin chest and raised his chin in challenge, “you hurt Bucky ‘gain, you’ll be sorry, Mister! I’ll beatcha with my crutches!” He waved one crutch above the ground as if in emphasis.

Mr. Harver reached the door and seemed to gain a bit of confidence. He called out, “I’m not going to touch that girl again. You do know it’s illegal for a girl to be dressed up as a boy, Barnes.” And before James could react more than growl loudly, Mr. Harver ran down the hall and towards the steps that lead to the first floor apartment he shared with his brother, the landlord.

TJ pushed forward as if about to chase after the man, shouting, “Bucky’s a boy!” The little seven year old had the heart of a lion, roaring as strongly as one might.

James placed a firm hand on TJ’s shoulder and coughed into the back of the hand holding the bat. “Let’s get Bucky’s clothes and get back home, Teej. You see them anywhere?”

“But, that guy called Bucky a girl! We should go wallop him, Papa!” TJ looked up at his father.

“Name calling isn’t a reason to fight, TJ. We can ignore name calling. We came in here because that man tried to hurt Bucky not just call him names. You understand the difference?” James looked around the dingy, dank room for Bucky’s dirty shirt and clean clothing.

“Over there, Papa, on that bench,” TJ pointed out Bucky’s clothing for his father before continuing, “but if he tried to hurt Bucky we should wallop ‘im for that! I can take ‘im, Papa! He don’t scare me!”

Suddenly, James laughed and pulled his son into a cuddle against his strong hip. “My feisty boy, what a brave one you are. We scared the man into pissing himself. That’s enough for now. He knows we’re watching him, Teej. Now, let’s get Bucky’s clothes and get back home. From now on, we’ll figure a way for everyone to wash at home instead of here.”

“Or, we can go in buddies? Like . . . me an’ Bucky, Rosie and Becca, you and Momma? That way if somethin’ bad happens there’s a buddy,” TJ suggested, displaying his intelligence and quick thinking.

Looking down at the boy, James nodded. “I think that’s a grand idea. Buddies. Let’s go tell Momma.” James gathered the clothes along with his bat and put a hand on TJ’s curls, gently leading him from the communal washroom. “Come on, son, let's go home.”

Once they made it back to the apartment, TJ reported to his older brother, “Buck! Papa and I scared Mr. Harver until he pissed himself! He’s a big sissy! Not scary at all!”

“Language, TJ,” Winnie gently admonished.

James flushed a bit, “sorry, darling. I said it first. TJ, ladies don’t appreciate coarse language, okay? We have to keep it polite in front of Momma and the girls.” He handed the clothing to Winifred. “Mr. Harver said he’d tell the police we dress Bucky as a boy.”

Sighing heavily, TJ nodded, “yes, Papa”

“Oh? And I’d love to tell the police how Mr. Harver offered Becca and Rosie candy if Rosie removed her shirt for him,” Winnie frowned fiercely, the argument from earlier seeming so far away.

James growled and turned for the door, “I really _will_ kill him!”

“I’ll help, Papa! You an’ me! We can wallop him and teach him a lesson for hurting Bucky and Becca and Rosie!” TJ said, looking determined to avenge his family.

“No one is killing anyone,” Winnie called after her husband, “best not to go to jail over the lowest scum on the Earth, James.”

That remark seemed to take the wind from the man’s sails and he slumped by the front door. He slowly put the bat down, coughing into his free hand. “Yes, dear,” he responded meekly. “TJ, your mother’s right. If we go to jail for killing him, who will protect the girls while Bucky’s in school?”

“I can protect them, Papa!” TJ assured.

“TJ, if _we_ go to jail for killing Mr. Harver, you won’t be here to protect them!” James said, smiling proudly at his feisty son.

Nodding, accepting that, TJ said, “I’ll protect everyone, Papa! Bucky, too! Bucky needs to be protected, and I’ll make sure nothin’ bad happens to him!”

Bucky hugged himself and shrank down smaller, crying harder. That drew a shocked look from James and he turned concerned eyes to his wife. “Should I get a doctor, Win?”

“I’m not sure? I haven’t been able to get him to stop crying since he came back,” Winnie sighed softly.

“Did the man _touch_ Bucky or . . . something worse?” James growled, reaching for his bat once more.

“Bucky said just touched,” Winnie assured her husband.

“Hey, Buck,” TJ sat on the floor, the movement awkward with the brace and crutches, but the little boy managed. “It’s alright, Bucky, I’ll protect you! I promise!”

The older boy scrambled to his feet and dashed for the kitchen, throwing up in the sink.

TJ looked up at his father and murmured, “maybe he don’t want me to protect him?”

“TJ, if that man touched Bucky in his private areas, that’s probably why he’s getting sick. What would you do if that man touched you down there?” James asked softly. He glanced to the girls to make sure they were okay.

“Slam my crutches into his balls,” TJ said simply, blinking his wide eyes.

“TJ, maybe Bucky’s upset because he froze instead of fighting back?” James asked very softly, worried for their normally plucky eldest son.

“That’s why I’ll protect him! I’ll hit people like Mr. Harver in the balls if they try and touch Bucky,” TJ pointed out.

Sighing, the brunet man ran his hand over his own greying curls and said, “Win, I’m starting Bucky back up at the boxing gym. I can take TJ, too. I want Bucky to get his confidence back that he can protect himself.”

Looking towards the kitchen and then at TJ before finally looking at James, Winnie nodded and let out a breath, “a good idea, James. Promise you’ll be careful with TJ?”

Looking down at the boy he’d just watched help threaten a dirty pervert, James nodded “of course. I’ll take good care of both our sons, Win. You know that.” He coughed into his hand.

“I know,” Winnie sighed and then said, “James, why don’t you go get some more rest to try and beat that cold?”

Nodding, James sighed and asked, softly, “want to call Steve? Maybe he can get Bucky to stop crying?” He didn’t know how to help his elder son through this kind of degrading assault.

“Might be a good idea,” Winnie nodded, heading towards the phone, missing TJ’s frown.

“Win, be careful what you say on the phone You know those operators gossip,” James called before heading back to the bedroom.

Becca looked at TJ and asked, softly, “you gonna help Bucky get washed up, TJ? He likes you being with him when washing.”

“But he jus’ ran away from me,” TJ pointed out.

Blinking, the little girl shook her head, “no he didn’t. He ran to the sink so he didn’t throw up on the living room floor.”

Tilting his head slightly, TJ nodded and scrambled off the floor, struggling since he was down so low. He hobbled into the kitchen, calling, “Buck?”

Looking up from a slumped position, back to the sink, Bucky blinked swollen bloodshot eyes. He no longer cried so hard or loud, instead looking drained and sick. Holding out his arms for TJ, Bucky let out a soft hiccough.

Silently cursing all the low floors since they were not easy for him to get down to or get back up, TJ practically collapsed into Bucky’s arms, “hey, Buck, it’s okay . . .”

Bucky buried his face in TJ’s curls and just held his little brother, trembling.

***************

August 29, 1931:

“Hey, Buck,” Steve voice broke through the kitchen.

Sitting with his brother in his lap, hugging him, having stopped crying by then, Bucky looked up from where he sat on the kitchen floor. “Stevie?” he croaked out, his throat still raspy from the hard crying and vomiting.

“Heard some jerk attacked ya,” Steve said, sitting crossed legged in front of Bucky.

Nodding, dropping a kiss to TJ’s head, Bucky rasped softly, “I was in the bathroom, getting ready to get cleaned up. Mr. Harver came up and put his hand in my pants and put his fingers . . . up there.” A flush flared over Bucky’s features and he dropped his eyes, cuddling TJ again.

Anger flashed in Steve’s eyes and he shook his head, “nasty man belongs in a cell where he can’t hurt anyone.”

“TJ and Papa threatened him,” Bucky said. “‘Cause I couldn’t protect myself . . . like some girl.” He buried his face in TJ’s hair.

“You ain’t a girl,” TJ said, looking up at Bucky, “you’re a boy.”

Bucky didn’t answer, keeping his eyes down. After a long moment, he softly said, “maybe I should be.”

“Is that what you want?” Steve asked, watching Bucky closely.

Shaking his head, burying his face in TJ’s curls again, Bucky said, “I’ve always been a boy . . . but my body seems to want to be a girl and I’m in love with a boy . . . and I don’t know what to do anymore. I always _liked_ being a boy.”

“Then you’re a boy,” Steve shrugged his shoulders, “if that's what you like and what makes you comfortable, then that’s what you are. Bucky, stop focusing on how much easier it’d be if you were a girl and focus on what you want.”

“What I _want_ ,” Bucky wailed softly, “is for my body not to be two different things. I want to just be a boy and not worry about girl things like bleeding and stomach pains every month or guys trying to rape me in the bathroom.” Bucky shook his head and leaned back against the sink. “Sometimes I hate me.”

“I love you,” Steve said, meeting Bucky’s eyes, “I love every part of you.”

Bucky leaned forward suddenly, keeping TJ on his lap, and hugged Steve, practically squishing TJ between them. “I love you, too, Stevie.”

Steve kissed Bucky’s lips, “good. ‘Cause I’m afraid you’re stuck with me now.”

Giving a wavery smile to his best friend, Bucky asked, “how’d I get lucky enough to have the two best friends in the whole world?” After a short pause, Bucky said, “TJ can swim.”

Looking surprised and proud, Steve grinned, reaching over to stroke TJ’s knee, “that’s great, Teej! You can come swimmin’ with Bucky and me.”

Keeping his head leaned up against Bucky’s chest, seeming very comfortable on the kitchen floor, cuddling with his brother, TJ murmured, “got Bucky in trouble though. Momma yelled at ‘im.”

“TJ went to the ocean to try swimmin’ on his own and Momma sent me after him. When I found out what TJ wanted, I decided to teach him so he wouldn’t drown. Momma got mad ‘cause I make decisions for TJ she thinks I shouldn’t.” Bucky sighed, “But I know Teej, Steve. He’d try on his own and be in trouble if a big wave or undertow comes.”

“I think your Momma just doesn’t want Teej to grow up and is holding on to him being a kid since he’s the baby of the family,” Steve sighed, watching Bucky and TJ.

Snorting, Bucky said, “Yeah, but he’s growing up just like Becca. They’re seven now. Keeping him trapped and stupid will only hurt in the end. What happens when he’s eighteen?” He stroked TJ’s curls.

“Just gotta keep explaining to her,” Steve smiled softly, stroking Bucky’s knee. “I’m sorry that pervert hurt ya, Buck.”

“It didn’t hurt,” Bucky ducked his head, flushing. “But it felt weird . . . never put anything there before, even my own fingers. It was . . .” Bucky shuddered. “Didn’t like him doing that.”

“Well, hopefully your Papa and Teej scared him real good and he’ll leave ya alone,” Steve said, stroking Bucky’s knee again.

“Stevie,” Bucky lifted his eyes. “He offered Rosie and Becca candy to take off Rosie’s shirt. He’s a sick pervert. They’re just little kids!”

“He should go to jail,” Steve sighed, shaking his head, looking disgusted. “Oughta be a ticket straight to jail.”

“Don’t they gotta catch him to do that?” Bucky sighed, dropping a kiss on his brother’s head. “I mean, it’s only Rosie and Becca and me against an adult . . . Yeah, my parents and you and TJ believe, but the cops?”

“I’ll go straight up to the cops and tell ‘me how he made ya cry and hurt ya!” TJ said determinedly. “They hafta believe me an’ Papa, right?”

“Teej, you’re so brave,” Bucky hugged him. “But Papa and you didn’t _see_ anything. And the guy can accuse you both of threatening him.”

“I saw ya cryin’!” TJ insisted, looking up at his older brother, “and he don’t hafta accuse! I did threaten him! I told him if he made you cry again I wallop him with my crutches!”

Steve’s brows rose and he turned impressed and amused eyes on Bucky.

“And that means he can get you arrested for threatening him, TJ. Papa’s going to take us both to the gym to practice boxing. We’ll stick with that, okay? Just avoid that man.” Bucky stroked his brother’s curls and dropped another kiss on his head, used to cuddling the little boy all the time.

Shrugging his shoulders, TJ said, “yes, Bucky, I’ll stay away, but if he comes at me I’ll wallop him.”

“Exactly,” Bucky breathed out in agreement. His eyes met Steve’s.

“You’re a brave kid, Teej,” Steve smiled, stroking TJ’s knee and then Bucky’s.

TJ smiled, a bit bashfully, and ducked his head, nuzzling at Bucky’s chest.

Smiling in delight with Steve’s contact, pleased the blond would also soothe TJ, who loved being touched and petted, Bucky leaned closer to Steve once more and brushed his lips over the other boy’s. “I’m glad we’re all here and friends, Steve. You, me, and Teej.”

“Jus’ us three ‘til the end of the line,” Steve grinned, kissing Bucky’s lips again.

TJ smiled, not minding being squashed between the two older boys. “‘Til the end of the line . . . forever.”

“Till the end of the line,” Bucky agreed. “Us three.”

**************

February 12, 1932:

Bundled in a wool coat and rubber overshoes, hat pulled low over his ears and forehead, hands stuffed into woolen mittens, Bucky trudged beside his equally bundled little brother. He deliberately walked slow so TJ wouldn’t try to rush on the icy, snowy ground. “Looking forward to seeing Steve’s new drawings. He said he just came up with a new idea for a comic about a soldier in the Great War.”

“Really? The soldier kicking butt?” TJ asked, focusing mainly on not slipping on the icy ground. “Bet he wallops those bad guy, huh?” The wool coat was a little big on TJ’s small frame, being one of Bucky’s old coats, and the hat, also an old one of Bucky’s, hung low over his ears and nearly covered his eyes.

“He didn’t say, but I bet that’s the way it goes. Maybe Steve will let you help write it, Teej?” Bucky grinned down at TJ. He’d begun to get used to the monthly menstruation, despite hating every second of it. But Bucky had also learned how to hide it. And on the worse days, his mother kept him home, sick. Before that change, Bucky had never missed any school, but he couldn’t imagine doing physical education during those times. He had a whole new respect for the girls around him.

“You think he’ll let me?” TJ asked, looking up at Bucky with excited eyes, the wool hat sliding completely down over his eyes. Despite multiple pleas to his mother, TJ still hadn’t been able to go to school with his siblings, being forced to stay at home with his mother.

“You read real well, Teej, and you’re learning to write. But most important, you have great ideas. We can write down your ideas until you get better at writing for yourself. We can ask, okay?” Bucky smiled happily and put a hand behind his brother’s shoulders, reaching out his left hand to open the front apartment door. “Ready to climb the stairs?”

“Yeah, I can do it,” TJ nodded, his tongue poking out between his plush lips in concentration as he began moving up the stairs, taking one at a time. He smiled proudly when he made it to the top on his own, being able to do things on his own felt so _freeing_.

Bucky, following two steps behind and below, just in case, smiled widely with pride. “There you go! You did it! And in a few months, we work on more swimming, right?” Bucky knocked on the door to the Rogers’ apartment.

“Momma won’t be sore on you again, will she? I don’t wanna get you in trouble again,” TJ said, looking up at Bucky as they waited for Steve to open the door.

Shrugging, Bucky said, “probably, but it’s safer if you learn. Momma will come around in the end, baby.”

The door opened and Sarah, looking tired and worried, her coat on and half buttoned, her overshoes on over her nurse’s shoes, said, “boys, I’m on my way out.”

“Mrs. Rogers we’re here to see Stevie! He’s gonna show us his new comic book!” TJ grinned, looking very excited and happy.

Blinking and looking even more worried, Sarah shook her head. “Steve’s very ill, boys. He’s in the hospital. He was taken in this morning and I’m on my way out to sit with him.”

TJ tilted his head, looking confused, and then turned his head up to Bucky.

Bucky looked shocked. “Can we come, too, ma’am? I want to check on Stevie.” He reached over to tug TJ carefully closer, needing the comfort of touching his brother. Steve had lung and heart problems, and any illness could kill the pretty blond boy.

Hesitating, Sarah finally nodded and said, “come along, boys. I’m taking a car.” She put on her hat and grabbed a bag of supplies the boys couldn’t identify. Leading the Barnes brothers from the apartment, she shut the door behind them and walked slowly down the stairs, wincing with each sep that put pressure on her left knee.

“You hurt, Mrs. Rogers,” TJ said, knowing the way Sarah walked and the expressions on her face all too well. TJ had always been a very observant boy since he’d always watched from the sidelines.

“Ah,” Sarah offered a strained smile to the young boy, “I bumped it at work and it aches with the cold.” Outside, Sarah signaled a cab to stop and climbed inside, letting the boys join her.

Settling in the seat, TJ between him and Sarah, Bucky said, “was it his lungs or his heart, ma’am?”

Sarah sighed, “lungs. They think it’s pneumonia.” The worried mother watched out the window for the hospital.

“What’s . . . pneu - - mo - - ni - - a?” TJ asked, sounding out the new word slowly, looking up at Sarah with wide eyes.

The nurse took a breath and said, “it means that the lungs start making liquid, like water, inside. This makes the patient start drowning. He needs to have the water dried up, but it takes a long time.”

“Steve’s drownin’?” TJ asked, eyes wide with fear, “the doctors are gonna make ‘im better?”

“That’s the idea,” Sarah said and turned to give TJ a hug beside her. “He’s in good hands. I know the doctors who are caring for him.” The taxi pulled up to the hospital and Sarah paid the fair, the man not charging for the children. She got out and held the door for TJ to climb to the sidewalk.

TJ clamored out of the vehicle, grinning up at Sarah once he straightened out. “We’ll see Stevie and he’ll be better, you’ll see, Mrs. Rogers.”

She smiled at the boy, letting Bucky climb out before leading them over the icy ground and into the hospital. In silence the trio walked down the white washed halls, the heavy smell of medicine in the air. Finally, coming up to the children’s ward, Sarah stopped and took a breath. She nodded and led Bucky and TJ into the room. Many boys and girls lay in beds, some on unknown machines with various tubes. Steve’s small figure seemed swamped in his large hospital bed.

Bucky moved up to Steve’s side and put a hand over Steve’s tiny pale one. “Hey. Stevie,” he said softly, pale eyes worried.

“Buck,” Steve croaked, blue eyes cracking open and delirious with fever and sickness. “Hey . . . was we supposed to meet up today?”

“Yeah, to look at your drawings. Hear you decided to go swimming, instead,” Bucky tried to tease lightly, stroking Steve’s delicate seeming hand.

Snorting softly, which caused Steve to break out in a series of hoarse coughs, the blond wasn’t able to reply for almost two minutes due to the wet coughing. “Yeah . . . wanted to go swimmin’ in the winter.”

“Well, you know that there’s a price for winter swimming, pal,” Bucky chuckled, his eyes never losing the worry. “Now you gotta spend the week coughing hard to get that water up.” Bucky lifted his hand to stroke over Steve’s forehead. “Fever . . . don’t like that . . .”

“I’ll be fine,” Steve coughed, groaning softly, “Jus’ gotta cough it up, right, Mama?” Steve’s eyes moved up to look at his mother.

Sarah nodded and led TJ to the side of her son’s bed. “Coughing and the medicine. Listen to the doctors, Steve. No stubborn mulishness now, you hear me?” She stroked his arm.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve grinned tiredly up at his mother and then looked at TJ. “Hey, Teej.”

“Hi, Stevie,” TJ said softly, eyes wide as he looked at the sick boy; normally Steve was so fiesty and strong but now he looked so . . . _little_.

Sarah pulled out the objects from her bag, revealing a drawing pad and several pencils, a small blade to sharpen the pencils, and a block of gum for erasing lines. She set them next to Steve and helped him sit up against several pillows. “Here you are, something to keep busy with, Steve.” Sarah brushed his hair from his sweaty forehead and kissed the top of his head.

“Thanks . . . Mama,” Steve wheezed with a small smile. He looked back at Bucky while he grabbed the sketchpad. With a shaky hand, he flipped it open to reveal the carefully drawn figure of the soldier he’d mentioned to Bucky a few days before. “See?” The drawings showed a soldier in various combat positions: in the trenches, on the battlefield, sniping from a high vantage point. The soldier looked like a man with features taken from both Steve’s father, Joseph, and Bucky.

“He’s beautiful, Steve!” Bucky praised. “I told Teej about the soldier and he wanted to see if you might like some of his ideas for writing?” Bucky helped TJ up on the bed at Steve’s legs, not close enough to be coughed on but close enough to be able to see the sketch pad.

When Steve turned it so TJ could get a better look, TJ grinned brightly and said, “he’s a great soldier! Maybe he’s on a secret mission to rescue his best friend from the bad guys and he hasta go all by himself ‘cause no one else wanted to help him? He knows he could get in trouble but his pal is worth gettin’ in trouble for?”

Steve blinked slowly, not having expected such a well thought out idea from the seven year old. He looked at Bucky, eyebrows raised in surprise.

Grinning widely, Bucky straightened the blanket over Steve’s slender legs. “Told ya he wanted to help you write.” Bucky winked.

Nodding, Steve looked at TJ and smiled, “that’s a great idea, Teej, once I get outta here, we can work on it, yeah?”

Looking absolutely thrilled, TJ smiled brightly as he nodded vigorously, “please? That’d be real swell, Stevie! Thanks!”

“So, we’re gonna get you better so we can all three work on this new comic, okay? Papa was a soldier. Maybe he can give us ideas, too?” Bucky tweaked the blanket again, longing to pet Steve but knowing he shouldn’t in such a public place.

Head falling back against the pillow below him, Steve nodded, looking tired and as ill as he felt, “yeah, that’d be good . . . that’d be real good, Buck.” The blond coughed again, some fluids coming up with the cough this time.

Bucky looked both worried and pleased. He reached over and rubbed Steve’s back, looking to Sarah.

She smiled and eased down beside Steve, leaning him forward against upraised knees. Cupping her hands she began lightly pounding on her son’s back in a treatment called _percussion_ , often used to help clear the lungs or get a child or elderly to cough more. If done right, the patient could even fall asleep, if he or she wasn’t coughing so much, but the idea was to get Steve to cough up the liquid and get his lungs working again. “See how I do this, boys? If you practice, you can get good at this and help Steve in the next few days. Give me a moment and I’ll show you how it feels.”

Steve finished coughing, clearing out a lot of fluids from his lungs. He slumped forward a bit, his eyes drooping shut in exhaustion.

Sarah wiped off Steve’s mouth then head and neck. She rested her son back against his pillows. Washing up, Sarah then turned to TJ and began percussing his back so he could feel what Steve had just gone through. It wouldn’t cause TJ to cough since his lungs weren’t full, but he would be able to feel the amount of pressure. Sarah then turned and showed Bucky. “You can practice on each other or your own leg to get the right pressure.”

Bucky nodded and leaned close to Steve, whispering, “you rest and get your breath back. I’ll wallop you next time, okay, Stevie?”

“Next . . . time,” Steve nodded sluggishly before drifting off completely, every breath a very soft wheeze.

Bucky looked over at TJ. “Ever want to become a doctor, baby?” he asked, softly.

Looking thoughtful, TJ slowly shook his head, “nah, I don’t wanna be a doctor. How ‘bout you?”

“Nope. Not a doctor or a nurse, but I really wanna learn how to make Stevie better. If that means learning medicine, I’ll do it.” Bucky turned a soft, worried smile on his best friend.

“‘Cause you’re gonna be with Stevie forever, huh?” TJ asked, smiling brightly, his left leg swinging back and forth over the edge of the bed.

“Yup, me and Stevie forever. You and me forever, too, Teej.” Bucky cuddled his brother. “You’re the best little brother, TJ. So brave and clever and understanding. I love you.”

Cuddling against Bucky’s side, TJ said, “I love you, too, Buck. You’re the bestest big brother in the whole world.”

Bucky nuzzled his brother’s temple. Whispering softly so Steve’s mother wouldn’t hear, Bucky said, “when we finish growing up, Teej, you can move in with me. We three can all get a place together, right?”

Looking up at Bucky with wide eyes, TJ breathed out, “you mean it? Honest?”

Nodding, Bucky agreed, “definitely mean it. When we’re grown up and leave home, we can live together and Steve can live with us. Then no one will see me and Steve and our love, and you know I won’t make you sit at home instead of doing things. I can help you find work and everything. It’s a long way away, but it’s something, right, baby?” Bucky stroked a finger down each of TJ’s cheeks, grinning.

Smiling widely, TJ suddenly hugged Bucky tightly, “oh! Thank you, Bucky! That’ll be the best day ever!”

Laughing softly, Bucky looked over at Steve. He gently took the sketch pad and moved it to beside the sleeping boy, but not where it’d get overly damaged. “Mrs. Rogers,” the brunet looked up at the exhausted mother, “if you wanna rest in that soft chair there, I’ll wake you if Steve needs you. TJ and I are wide awake. We can practice his reading while we wait.”

Sarah studied the teen and the small child then sighed and nodded. She kissed her son’s head once more then sank onto the chair beside the window. “Wake me when he wakes or for anything, Bucky.”

“We promise, right, Teej?” Bucky turned to his brother.

“Right,” TJ nodded once, “get some rest, Mrs. Rogers.”

With another sigh, Sarah leaned back against the backrest and closed her eyes, drifting off fairly quickly - - a testament to her exhaustion.

Bucky turned back to TJ and grinned widely, though his eyes still held worry for his sick friend. “I’m gonna get some paper and a pencil from someone and write up your ideas for the comic. Then you can read it back to me, okay?”

“Okay!” TJ nodded, looking excited.

The older boy slid from the bed and hurried out to the hall, begging paper and pencils from someone, not even dreaming of using any of Steve’s drawing supplies. He came back quickly and sank back on the bed in his former position. Placing pencil to paper, Bucky said, “ready, TJ.”


	6. Forced to Change, Forced to Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Dubious/ non-con with minor, threat of abuse, violence, anxiety, self-doubt, era typical homophobia, intersex**

February 26, 1932:

A loud series of knocks broke through the commotion of all the Barnes’ getting ready for supper, loud enough to cut through the hysterical giggles of Becca as Bucky chased her around in order to win their tickle fight, even louder than Winnie calling for the children to get washed up for the evening meal.

Frowning, James stepped over to the door and opened it, frowning severely at what he saw on the other side: his landlord and the landlord's disgusting brother. “Yes, Mr. Harver?”

George Harver, a heavy set man with greying brown hair and a finely groomed mustache frowned as he looked at James. “Mr. Barnes, I heard something rather . . . disturbing about one of your children?”

“Really? What happened, Sir?” James asked politely, not looking at the man who’d assaulted his eldest child.

“Your little one on crutches? The cripple? I heard he threatened to beat my brother with his crutches? Is that true?” George crossed his arms over his chest.

James blinked and raised one eyebrow. “A seven year old crippled boy threatened a full grown man?”

“Is it true, Mr. Barnes? I believe you were in the room when it happened, yes?” George narrowed his dark eyes at his tenant.

“Let me think . . . at the end of last August, your brother tried to shove his fingers inside one of my children. Could that be the day we’re discussing?” James’ voice dropped to a low warning growl.

“Now, you listen here, Mr. Barnes, I will not have you spreading vicious, disgusting rumors about my brother! He would never harm a child!” George pointed one beefy finger at James.

“Yes, it _is_ disgusting that a grown man would try to shove his fingers in a young child’s orifices. I wonder what would happen if the other neighbors were asked, how many other children had to deal with such horror . . .” James growled again.

“There are no other children because my brother has never touched a child inappropriately! Your _daughter_ must be confused as to what happened, Mr. Barnes, it _is_ a daughter, right? The one you dress up as a boy?” George snapped back.

“I believe your brother is mistaken, as well. If he didn’t fondle my child, he must be making up that I dress a girl as a boy,” James met the man’s eyes with no fear. He glared at the landlord. “And if he was lying about attacking my _son_ , how can we trust that he doesn’t like to shove his fingers into _boys’_ asses?”

“You son of a bitch!” George snapped, eyes flashing with venom. “Your crippled boy threatened my brother and here you are throwing around accusations!”

“Your full grown brother is scared of a seven year old cripple?” James countered just as venomously.

“Those metal crutches he has can do serious damage to a man!” George narrowed his eyes even further.

“As serious as, say, a wooden bat in a full grown man’s hand?” James growled, reaching for his bat. “You get that filth away from my children. Next time I hear even the slightest complaint from a child, I will have his ass before the cops!”

A sudden sharp pain shot through Keith’s leg as TJ’s crutch slammed against it. TJ had been washing up with Rosie in the wash room like his Momma had ordered and had rushed over once he saw that evil man talking with his father.

The man howled in exaggerated pain, gripping his leg with one hand and reaching for the child with the other, “you little monster!”

Instinctively, James slammed the reaching hand with the heavy bat, shattering Keith Haver’s wrist, drawing a true howl of pain from the man. He grabbed TJ by the arm and yanked his son inside, screaming to Rosie to get up to Mrs. Hennessy's room and stay there. As Rosie turned to bolt, James slammed the door in the landlord’s face, “call the police, Winifred,” he shouted, loud enough to be heard through the door.

“The police? What for?” Winnie called back, sounding worried.

“I broke that man’s wrist for trying to attack TJ,” James reported. “I sent Rosie to Mrs. Hennessy’s. Mr. Harver was threatening us about last August. Pack what you can that we own, God knows it ain’t much. We aren’t staying here any longer than we have to. I’ll start looking for a new place for us.”

While Winnie called the police, TJ looked up at his father, “was that evil man gonna make Bucky cry ‘gain?”

“No, TJ, you just made a bad situation really bad. Never attack someone unless he attacks first!” James shook his head. “Go to the bedroom and help Becca start putting clothes in the trunk. Roll them up small to make room.”

“But . . . he was right outside the door - -” TJ started.

“Now!” James yelled at the little boy. “My God, TJ, listen for once, Goddammit! That man has every reason to demand you get put in a juvenile home for dangerous children. Don’t you realize he can have you taken away for attacking him?”

Eyes filling with tears, his whole body flinching at his father’s shout, TJ hung his head and didn’t say anything else, hobbling off into Becca and Rosie’s room to begin packing up their few belongings.

“They are sending a deputy, James,” Winnie reported softly, eyes worried, walking back into the living room from the kitchen, “you don’t really think they’ll lock him up, do you? He’s just a boy.”

“That’s what delinquent homes are for, Winnie,” James said. “Make sure that roast doesn’t burn. Start packing the kitchen and wrap a towel around the food. We’ll eat as soon as we’re done with the police. I’ll try to get them to leave TJ with us, play on his sympathy if I have to. Go, take TJ’s brace from him to make him look more helpless,” James said in defeat.

“James . . . that’ll seem like a punishment . . . that we’re punishing him by taking away his ability to walk . . .” Winnie said, eyes widening in horror.

“My God, Win, he _attacked_ Mr. Harver for only talking. It _is_ a punishment until the cops go away. TJ can have the brace back as soon as the cop leaves!” James shook his head and headed for the living area to begin packing while they waited for the cops. He knew the landlord would get them removed at the very least.

Letting out a shaky breath, Winnie turned to the bedroom to go talk with TJ and collect the brace. When Winnie took the brace, TJ cried softly but didn’t say anything. Luna whimpered and clawed at the brace held in Winnie’s hand. The dog had grown quite a bit in the months that had passed and developed more of a leaner body, looking even more like the wolves TJ adored so much.

In their parents’ bedroom, Bucky sat on the edge of the bed behind the door and spoke softly to the operator. He asked for Steve’s number and waited, watching the door with wide eyes. “Steve? Mr. Harver came back and the landlord, Mr. Harver. They were fighting with Papa and TJ hit Mr. Harver. Now Papa’s really angry and calling the police and telling us to pack up and Rosie’s not even here. He sent her upstairs to wait.” Bucky swallowed. “I’m not sure what to do . . . he took TJ’s brace, Stevie . . “

“He’s giving it back, right? TJ needs that to walk!” Steve had only been permitted to go home from the hospital a few days prior.

“He said after the cops leave. He wants them to see TJ as a pathetic cripple so they leave him here with us,” Bucky sobbed slightly, fear for his brother and fear at the situation warring with a memory of Mr. Harver back in August. “But Teej can still walk without the brace. Using the crutches, he lets the leg dangle and drag a bit, but he can do it.”

Steve sighed softly, sounding worried, “that man didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Never even saw me. When I saw who it was, I took Becca into Momma and Papa’s room,” Bucky whispered. “Stevie, Papa’s having us pack. Becca and Teej are packing the girl’s room right now.”

“He’s jus’ movin’ you to a different apartment is all,” Steve assured his friend, “you can come stay here, even, for a few days. I’m sure Mama won’t mind!”

“You sure?” Bucky breathed out a sigh of relief. “Your Momma won’t mind?”

“Of course not! Might be a bit cramped but we’ll manage!” Steve said soothingly, “jus’ want you away from that sick pervert!”

Bucky yelped when the loud sound of a knock came to the front door. He peeked out of the room, a terrified fourteen year old in a world of threats and violence where once it was calm and happy. “Cop’s here,” he informed Steve when James opened the front door to the officer.

“Okay, you should help finish packin’, jus’ come on over when you’re done, okay?” Steve said gently.

“Okay, Stevie. I love you . . .” Bucky whispered then hung up the phone and hurried to begin packing his parents’ room.

James glared at his landlord behind the cop. “Officer, thank you for coming so quickly. It appears my landlord and I have a very different opinion of assault.”

The officer’s brows rose and he said, “I believe a Mr. Harver was taken to the hospital with a very severely injured arm, Mr. Barnes, was it?”

“Yes, sir, Officer,” James agreed. “You see, he tried to grab my crippled little boy, threatening him, so I broke his wrist with a bat to protect my child. However, that was not the only incident Mr. Harver’s brother and I have disagreed on. We need law enforcement to settle this for us before any more injuries or misunderstandings happen.” The man sounded quite calm and reasonable.

“And, this crippled little boy is the same one that smashed his crutch against Mr. Harver’s leg?” The officer asked, frowning softly.

“Yes, you see,” James let both men into the apartment, “my son, Thomas, was afraid Mr. Harver would try to hurt my other children again, as he did last August. I’ve already corrected TJ’s assumption that his crutches are a weapon, severely reminding him that he is never to attack unless attacked first, sir.” James turned, “TJ, come out here please. The police officer wants to see you. Take it slow.”

The little boy, smaller than most his age, hobbled out into the living room, his cheeks still damp with tears though no more fell from his eyes. TJ’s right leg, obviously very twisted and lame dragged behind him slightly as he moved. “Yes, Papa?” He asked softly, properly chastised and shamed.

“TJ, tell the officer exactly why you hit Mr. Harver today. You’re allowed to explain why you did what you did, son,” James instructed firmly, yet kindly, with no sign of his desperate fear and anger from earlier. James scooped up his son and turned to the cop, letting the cop and the landlord get a good look at the leg.

“Mr. Harver made Bucky cry jus’ after my birthday and . . . and I tol’ him if he made Bucky cry ‘gain that I’d wallop him . . . I was ‘fraid he was gonna hurt Bucky or Rosie . . . so I hit ‘im with my crutch,” TJ mumbled softly.

“And, TJ, what have you now learned?” James asked.

“Not to attack someone unless being attacked,” TJ said, eyes falling to ground.

“Good boy,” James praised. “As you see, Officer, he’s learned his lesson and is repentant of hurting anyone. He misunderstood the situation.”

Sighing, the officer shook his head and said, “I can see he’s remorseful, but Mr. Harver is demanding we take him to a juvenile home for violent boys.”

Nodding, James sighed too. “And did Mr. Harver explain what it was he did to my other son that caused TJ to fear he’d hurt the children? My son was washing up in the communal bathroom down the hall. He pulled my boy’s pants down and shoved fingers _inside_ him. I don’t know what kind of man does that to a boy or girl, but I think TJ had every right to feel threatened.”

The officer rubbed at his eyes and then looked back at James, “then, you should have filed something with us when it happened, Mr. Barnes.”

“He’s spreading false, vile rumors about my brother. My brother, Keith, would _never_ hurt a child, especially a _boy_ , that's disgusting!” The landlord, George Harver, glared at James. “But I can tell you, it’s not just a violent little thug he’s harboring. That older kid is a girl. He dresses her up as a boy!”

“Bucky is a boy, Officer. This man is spouting evil rumors,” James said calmly.

Bucky stepped forward, shaking a bit, and nodded, looking perfectly masculine. “I’m a boy, sir.”

The officer frowned and looked between all the parties involved and shook his head.

“Prove it,” George challenged. “If it’s a boy, he can show us it’s a boy. Only men here.”

Bucky went pale and James looked insulted and angry. “You’re as sick as your brother, wanting my son to strip for you!”

“I’m not having a child strip. He looks like any other boy, Mr. Harver,” the officer said.

Swallowing, Bucky asked, “Officer, if I can prove we’re not lying about me being a boy, will you believe us that TJ’s not violent enough to need a juvie home?”

“Boy, you don’t need to strip,” the officer said again.

Bucky shook his head and opened the front of his pants so the cop could see down them, his testicles hiding his vagina in that position. “See? A boy, sir . . .”

“I believed you in the first place, but thank you,” the officer looked down Bucky’s trousers very quickly before looking at his face.

James glared at George, “I told you your brother lied and is a sick bastard. He’s been terrorizing all the children on this block! The only reasons I didn’t file anything was because I didn’t want Bucky put through all this.”

“I want you and your juvie children out of my apartment building,” the landlord growled, eyes narrowed, watching as Bucky tied his drawers shut then closed his trousers.

James blinked and looked at the cop. “We need time to find a place . . .”

The officer looked at Mr. Harver and said, “give them a week to be out of the apartment.”

“A week, but that little crippled dog stays locked up out of the way. I don’t need him attacking anyone else!”

“Can you keep the boy inside until you move, Mr. Barnes?” The officer asked, moving his gaze to James.

“Yes, Officer. I’ll keep all four of my children inside and away from Mr. Harver and his relatives,” James promised, glaring at the landlord.

“Good, it’s all settled then. No child is going to juvenile detention,” the officer nodded.

“But I want his word he won’t be trying to come into this apartment until a week’s up. I don’t want to wake up and find my place robbed or my things destroyed,” James growled.

“Mr. Harver?” The cop looked at the landlord.

Looking insulted and pissed, the landlord nodded once. “Fine. But if there’s any damage, I’ll have you in the courts!”

“Fair enough,” the officer nodded and then sighed, “so, gentlemen, is this all squared away?”

“If he stays away, we’ll move away. A week. Seven days, including the Sabbath,” James agreed.

“The Sabbath? What are you a freakin’ Christ Killer?” George said, shocked.

“Enough, Mr. Harver, you got your wish, now move on,” the officer said, annoyance in his tone.

“I won’t have a dirty Jew in my place! He hid that from me!” George yelled, incensed, spittle forming at the corner of his mouth.

“And I won’t have you kick children out of an apartment in the middle of winter. Now, he agreed to move out by the end of one week and that’s what you agreed to,” the officer finally growled.

“Thank you, Officer, for coming when _we_ called for you,” James informed the cop, in case it went unnoticed that the landlord with the grievance hadn’t been the one to call for help . . . the man with the supposed violent child was.

George growled, “seven days. On the eighth, I come in and anything left is mine. Anyone left is sent to jail!” He whirled and stomped off, yelling at the neighbors who watched from their doorways.

Once he made it downstairs, while the cop still stood there, James said, “Win, call Mrs. Hennessy and tell her it’s safe for Rosie to come down now. Neither Mr. Harver is here to threaten her again.”

Sighing, the officer shook his head, “I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes, but the week was the best I could do.”

“We understand. Started packing already. I’ll not have my children near that man or his brother. You might wanna start asking around the neighbors. You’ll hear worse than what I told you,” James advised. “That man belongs in a cell, not a hospital. Fingering a fourteen year old boy’s ass . . . bribing an eleven year old girl to remove her shirt . . .”

Sighing again, the officer nodded, “thank you, Mr. Barnes.” And with that, the officer showed himself out of the apartment.

“I’m sorry, Papa,” TJ said softly.

James, still holding the small boy, hugged him hard. “So am I. Win, get the boy his brace. The cop’s gone, so I’ll keep my word. You understand what happened here, baby?” James looked at TJ.

“I don’t want the brace,” TJ murmured, eyes still unable to meet his father’s.

“Why not?” James asked.

“I don’t deserve it,” TJ replied, frowning softly.

“You’ve already been punished for hurting the man, TJ. You served your punishment. So, of course you should have your brace. We need you to be able to help pack.” James hugged his son again.

“I can help pack without it, wasn’t usin’ it to help pack Becca and Rosie’s room. I don’t want it back,” TJ said with as much determination as possible.

“So,” James sighed, “when do you want it back?”

“Never. I’m better off the little crippled boy who can’t walk right,” TJ stated.

“Why do you say that?” James sighed, meeting TJ’s eyes, frowning softly.

“‘Cause it’s true,” TJ said softly, “I gotta help Becca finish packin’, Papa.”

“Nope,” James said, still holding his son in his arms. “Way I see it, you’re feeling guilty and not understanding the situation. So, I’m going to explain. You are not a crippled boy who can’t walk right. You are a healthy, intelligent, loving boy who can’t walk right. Unfortunately, when dealing with someone as mean and nasty as Mr. Harver, we need to use any sympathy we can get.. So, I let them see that you aren’t a threat to a full grown man four times your weight and build. That the crutch was the only weapon you had. And that you were being disciplined for that. Make sense so far?” James continued to meet TJ’s eyes.

TJ shrugged his thin shoulders, the normally feisty attitude nowhere in sight, “okay, Papa. I’ll wear the brace.”

Frowning, James said, “just like that? You’re giving up?” James put his son down and grabbed the brace from Winifred. He put it on TJ quickly, painlessly, but without any of his normal gentle smiles. “Fine, TJ, if you want to be a pouty little boy after the trouble we’re in, be that way. I’m trying to keep this damn family together and safe. You be pouty.” He stood and walked into the kitchen.

“You shoulda just drowned me in the river with all the other runts!” TJ finally shouted at his retreating father.

James whirled, “I’d never drown any of my children. I love all four of you! I’d cut my heart out for any of you!”

“You ever think that maybe _I_ wouldn’t want to live this way?” TJ snapped and then turned away, hobbling into Becca’s room to finish packing.

Winnie stood, shocked, eyes wide and one hand covering her slightly opened mouth. She looked at her husband and breathed, “what . . . what just happened, James?”

“I don’t know, but don’t let that boy out of our sight. He’s gotten a bit morose over the past few months, and I’m worried this is a bad city for him.” James narrowed his eyes then said, “I’m going to call Ruth.” He turned and headed to the phone.

Bucky looked at his mother then turned and headed into the girls’ room. He watched TJ and Becca packing. Slowly, he began to help the young twins, not saying anything, just working alongside them.

From the room, the children could hear Winnie ask, “Ruth? Your sister that lives in Indiana? James, are you sure?” Winnie sounded worried, but they all knew that she’d agree to anything James said.

“Where else will we find a home within a week, Win?” James asked. “Besides, she lives in a small town with trees and grass and animals and a river. They’ll thrive out there.”

“I suppose you’re right . . .” Winnie sighed followed by the clanging of pots and pans, denoting she’d started packing up the kitchen.

“That roast is still good? We can cut it and put it on bread later tonight and tomorrow,” James sighed then picked up the phone and had the operator connect him to his sister out in Indiana.

“I’m sorry, Bucky . . . I - - I really didn’t mean it,” TJ murmured, sitting on the bed Rosie and Becca shared and rolling up the girls’ clothes tightly as Becca handed them to him.

“If it was me with the crutches, I’d have meant it,” Bucky said softly, sitting next to TJ and stroking his curls. “But I sure hope you don’t really wanna be drowned like a runt. You’d break my heart.”

Shrugging his shoulders, TJ murmured, “I jus’ cause a whole lotta trouble for everyone.”

Bucky snickered suddenly, “You were born when I was seven, Teej. Know that? I was the age you are now. And until you came along, I caused Momma and Papa so much trouble, I’m surprised they both aren’t grey.” Bucky hugged his brother. “It’s our job to keep them young and running around, Teej.” He grinned at the boy.

“You didn’t make us all move houses,” TJ pointed out softly with a sigh.

Snorting, Bucky said, “yeah, I did. It was you and me and Rosie and Becca. Momma and Papa could have out you in a home if they wanted to stay here, you know. But they love you more, so we’re moving. And that man went after the rest of us, and might’ve gone for Becca soon, too. So, Momma and Papa wanna move us to keep all four of us safe. I’d say Papa’s glad, privately, to see you’ll stand up for us all. Brave, that’s TJ Barnes.”

“Sure doesn’t seem like it,” TJ muttered, looking down at his lap, his eyes wandering to his left leg every so often. “Papa was pretty mad at me.”

“Not really. He was terrified and trying to think of a way not to get you arrested for hurting that pervert. Papa gets loud when he’s scared, you know.” Bucky hugged again. “But it’s okay, because you _know_ he loves you. If he didn’t, he’d have sent you to a home.” Bucky ran his hand down TJ’s leg, checking the brace was fastened correctly and not too tight.

“Yeah, okay,” TJ nodded slowly, still not sounding completely convinced. He wiped at his nose with the back of his hand and said, “hope we don’t move far . . .”

“Steve said his Momma will let us live with her. I’ve gotta tell Papa yet, but that’s not too far.” Bucky smiled. “Hey, Becca, Papa said roll them so we can fit more.”

“But it wrinkles and Momma will need to iron it again,” the girl protested.

“And if we don’t roll it, we can’t take it. So, roll it up, baby girl,” Bucky ordered her gently.

Becca nodded and rolled up her Sabbath dress. Bucky looked at TJ. “Gonna help us roll dresses, Teej?”

“That’s what I’ve been doin’, Buck?” TJ pointed to the small pile of rolled dresses next to him.

Snickering, Bucky nuzzled at TJ’s temple, “I know. Just talking to hear myself, I guess.” He began packing the rolled dresses into the trunk.

**************

March 5, 1932:

Steve sat on the steps of his apartment building, waiting for Bucky to show up, enjoying the odd warm day for it being only March. Bucky had called to say he was coming over a few minutes ago, so Steve knew he’d be walking up soon. Once Steve saw the figure of his best friend walking up, he stood up and called, “heya, Buck!” Since Bucky had called the same day Steve had invited them all to stay to say they’d come to an agreement with the landlord to stay one more week, Steve just figured the Barnes’ had found somewhere else to stay.

When Bucky walked up without TJ, Steve instantly knew that something was off. Bucky hardly went anywhere without TJ, and when Bucky got closer, Steve could see just how miserable his best friend looked. “Bucky? What’s wrong?” He hurried up to his friend.

“Can . . . can we go inside, Stevie?” Bucky said softly, not lifting his eyes from the sidewalk, feeling more miserable than even during his _stupid cycle_.

Fear instantly shot through Steve. Had something happened to TJ? Steve didn’t think many complications came from having clubfoot but had TJ gotten sick? “Yeah, of course, Buck,” Steve, without really thinking, grabbing Bucky’s hand and tugging his friend into the apartment building and up to the apartment he shared with his mother. Steve lead Bucky straight to his bedroom and shut the door. “Buck, what happened?” Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky and then pulled back slightly.

Bucky buried his face in Steve’s shoulder and hugged the blond tight. “We’re moving. Everything’s packed and on a big truck.” Bucky nuzzled desperately at Steve’s neck. “TJ wasn’t allowed to come over, ‘cause Papa suspected he’d try to hide here.”

“Wasn’t allowed . . . is this because he banged his crutches against that pervert’s leg? C’mon, I get tryin’ to teach him violence ain’t always the right answer . . .” Steve blinked when all of Bucky’s words sunk in, “wait . . . movin’? Not far away, right?”

Lifting his face, Bucky nodded, “yeah . . . Shelbyville . . .” His voice broke as he tried to hold back the tears that kept falling anyway.

“Where’s that? Jersey or somethin’?” Steve asked, trying to figure out how he might be able to see Bucky often.

“Indiana,” Bucky whispered, letting go of Steve to hug himself. “Shelbyville, Indiana. We’re moving in with Aunt Ruthie.”

“Indiana . . .” Steve blinked in shock, his mouth dropping open. “But . . . really?”

Nodding, Bucky lifted miserable pale blue eyes. “Yeah. Papa thinks this city is bad for TJ. And for the rest of us, really. He wants us where it’s quieter and green and stuff.”

“But . . . but . . . Indiana . . .” Steve tried to process everything, the idea that he’d never see Bucky Barnes again. He met Bucky’s eyes and said, softly, “maybe . . . maybe you can live here with me and Mama?”

Bucky threw himself into Steve’s arms. “I gotta take care of TJ, Stevie. He’s gotten real depressed and told Papa he shoulda been drowned at birth. I don’t think TJ could make it without me right now.”

“Then . . . then . . . you and TJ can live here,” Steve tried to think of any way that could keep Bucky and TJ in New York.

“Your Momma would let us move in? What about Momma and Papa and the girls? They’re gonna need me when we move. Papa will need to find work, so I’ll need to help out.” Bucky lay his cheek on Steve’s shoulder, whispering his answers, his fears.

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s body and closed his eyes, trying to memorize everything about the pretty brunet. He tried to memorize Bucky’s scent, the feel of Bucky in his arms, the way Bucky’s lip tugged up higher on one corner when he smiled. “When . . . when do you leave?”

“Today,” Bucky lifted his head and cupped Steve’s face. He brushed his lips over the other boy’s mouth. “I love you, Stevie. I don’t want to have to go.”

“I wish you and TJ could stay here,” Steve whispered, eyes blurring with tears, the very first time that Bucky saw Steve cry. “You’re . . . you’re my everything, Buck.”

Meeting Steve’s vivid blue eyes, Bucky promised, “I’ll be back, Stevie. When I’m old enough, I’ll come back. Till the end of the line, right?”

“‘Till the end of the line,” Steve breathed out, a tear running down his cheeks. He let his head fall onto Bucky’s shoulder. “Do . . . do you have to leave right now?”

Nodding, Bucky said, “Papa said I have to be back by noon.” He kissed Steve’s neck, wanting to memorize his friend’s taste, his scent and touch. “I love you, Stevie.”

“I love you, too, Buck, more than anything,” Steve kept his arms wrapped tightly around Bucky, wishing he would never be forced to let go.

Several kisses, cuddles, and soft promises of love later, Bucky reluctantly drew backwards. He gave Steve a last firm kiss then pulled away and got to his feet. “I’ll call and write when I can, Stevie . . .”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve sniffled, rubbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. “I’ll miss ya, you jerk.” He gave his best friend a watery smile.

“Punk,” Bucky shot back, grinning despite his own tears. “Now don’t go beatin’ on the first wiseguy you see, jus’ ‘cause you can. You better save it for those guys who really deserve it.” Bucky cupped Steve’s face and kissed him hard. Touching foreheads, Bucky breathed, “I love you.”

“I love you,” Steve breathed out in return. “Stay safe out there. Tell TJ I said bye?”

Nodding, Bucky said, “I’ll let him know.” Bucky drew a breath and backed up then whirled around and bolted from the room, unable to stay longer and continue the heartbreaking goodbye.

He ran all the way home.

Not wanting to get right into the truck, Bucky climbed up to the familiar apartment level and headed for the bathroom to bathe his face. He walked in and reached for a sink but stopped at an odd sound from the shower room. Frowning, the fourteen year old turned and walked into the communal shower room. “Hello?”

A very soft whimper sounded and then TJ’s voice whispered, “I - - I’m sorry, Sir . . .”

Blinking, looking into the steamy shower stall his brother’s voice came from, Bucky felt ice shoot down his spine followed by a red haze of rage over his mind. He let out a roar and reached inside the shower stall, ignoring the steam and water, and grabbed the larger man in adrenaline-strengthened hands. Yanking Keith Harver from the shower, Bucky whirled the man around and slammed him bodily into the wall, smashing the man’s face into the horsehair cement. “I’m going to kill you,” Bucky said in a very soft, quiet voice, his eyes a blaze of steel blue.

“Bucky! No!” TJ cried out once Keith’s face started to turn a shade of purple. “Jus’ let ‘im go! We’re leaving!” The smaller boy, clothes all disheveled though it didn’t look as if they’d been opened, tried to rush at his brother but, in his panic, had forgotten Keith had ripped his crutches away, so he crashed to the floor, the brace twisting painfully, but his hand hand managed to grab at Bucky’s sleeve on the way down.

Letting the man drop in an instant, ignoring the gasping he made, Bucky knelt and scooped TJ up into his arms. He nuzzled and cooed softly, “my poor, poor TJ. Did he hurt you, baby? Are you okay, Sweet?”

“I - - I’m okay . . .” TJ stretched out his right leg, wincing slightly though it didn’t feel like anything was too damaged. “He - - he grabbed my . . .” TJ flushed and pointed to his crotch, “and said he was gonna rip it off . . . ‘cause I hit him . . .”

“Where’s your crutches, Teej?” Bucky asked, still ignoring the gasping man on the floor, bleeding from his mouth because of a severely broken nose.

“I was washin’ my hands by the sinks and he grabbed me . . . I think my crutches fell by there?” TJ said, looking up at Bucky, “I didn’t hit him ‘gain, I promise, Buck.”

SIghing, Bucky nuzzled TJ’s neck and whispered, “if you get attacked first, you’re allowed to attack back. So this time, baby? It would have been fine. But it’s okay. We’ll work on learning when to fight, okay?” He carried his brother over to the room of sinks and found the discarded crutches. Stooping, still clutching TJ close, Bucky scooped up the crutches and the straightened. He carried his brother from the washroom. “And if he ever, ever, tries to come near any of us again, I’ll kill that man without even blinking.”

“Don’t want ya to go to jail . . .” TJ sniffled, laying his head on his brother’s shoulders.

Falling silent, unable to pet his brother since his hands were full, Bucky turned his face and kissed TJ’s temple carefully. “I love you, TJ. I promise not to do something to go to jail. I don’t want to leave you, baby.” He carried TJ into the apartment for one last check to see they got everything, but really it was to calm down before getting to their parents. If James and Winifred knew what happened to TJ, they’d go to the police and things would drag out. It would be the word of two Jewish boys with deformities against an adult brother of a Prostitant land owner.

“I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry it’s my fault that you won’t be with Stevie anymore,” TJ said softly, laying his head on Bucky’s shoulder.

“I’ll be with Stevie, baby. I’m coming back to New York when I turn seventeen. And I’ll get work and a home and convince Moma and Papa to let you move in with me.” Bucky kissed TJ’s temple. “You didn’t make me leave Stevie. Papa did.”

Sniffling again, TJ let out a shaky breath and said, “I’m scared, Bucky. I don’t wanna move in with Aunt Ruth.”

Carrying TJ into their former kitchen, Bucky asked, “why? Have you heard something about her I haven’t? Papa told me she owns a little farm with sheep and dogs.”

“But . . . I like it here, Buck,” TJ said softly, “I like it here with you and Stevie.”

Nodding, Bucky said, “it’s not the place, it’s the people. Right?” He gave his brother a smile.

“Yeah . . . you - - you and Stevie are still married, right?” TJ asked, meeting his brother’s eyes.

Nodding, smiling widely, Bucky said, “yeah. In our hearts, we’re still married, baby. Aad if it was legal to be married in body, we’d do that in a heartbeat. Steve loves me and he loves you, too. He told me to make sure that you know he’s going to miss you. He says goodbye, but he _did_ offer to let you and me move in with him instead of moving. I had to say no. Papa and Momma and the girls will need us for a couple of years yet.”

“And then we’ll move back here?” TJ asked, holding onto Bucky tightly. “We can still live in a house with Steve?”

Nodding, still smiling, Bucky touched his forehead to TJ’s and said, “yeah. In a few years, we’ll have a house with Steve, you and me. We’ll live the three of us. And we’ll visit the others back in Indiana for the holidays.”

“Boys!” Winnie’s voice called out, sounding like she stood right at the bottom of the stairs, “we have to go!”

Bucky called back, “coming, Momma, just checking nothing got left behind!” Bucky nuzzled his nose to TJ’s. “Better? You and me, Teej, we’re just such pretty boys we make assholes do stupid things. But we’re strong. We’re stronger than them, right?”

“We’re the strongest,” TJ agreed with a nod, not making Bucky put him down.

“And you and me, we’ll show those dumb perverts what it means to mess with a Barnes man, right?” Bucky turned and carried TJ through the apartment, ignoring the furniture they’d had to leave behind.

“We’ll save the entire world someday, Buck, like those heroes in Steve’s comic,” TJ murmured softly.

Blinking, Bucky laughed and said, “TJ, you little genius! We’ll write to Steve regularly and write his comics for his drawings. We three can still write the books together then, in a few years, we can work together in New York City again, right here in Brooklyn!” Bucky hugged TJ and carried him down to the car, offering his surprised parents a hopeful smile.

“Maybe things will be okay?” TJ said.

“Hey, Teej, with the two of us together? We’re gonna be fine. Nothing can stop us.” Bucky got into the back of the car to follow the truck. He settled TJ down on his lap as the girls got in with him, all four crowded in the tiny back of the overstuffed car Momma would be driving behind the farmer’s truck Papa would drive. “You, me, and Stevie - - till the end of the line.”


	7. Loss and Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Intersex, Self-doubt, Self Body-shame, Death, Grief, Anxiety, Eating Disorders, Post Traumatic**

October 16, 1934:

Bucky finished buttoning his jacket and reached for his hat, glancing in the mirror. Pausing, studying his own reflection in the small shaving mirror, the tall brunet seventeen year old frowned, pale blue eyes holding a mix of sadness and anticipation. HIs eyes roved down as far as he could see down his chest, making sure everything appeared well. Finally, Bucky shoved his hat on his head and turned from the mirror, reaching for his bag.

“Take me with you?” A very small, pleading voice broke out from the doorway. TJ stood there, watching his older brother with wide, sad eyes. The brunet had grown taller in the last few years but was still very skinny, making him look lanky. His brunet curls were in a desperate need of a cutting since they hung nearly into his eyes. TJ used his brace and crutches to get around, still, having to be refitted for two braces in the last year since he grew so fast.

Kneeling before the ten year old boy, Bucky wrapped TJ in a tight hug. “I’ve asked, Teej, but Papa says no. He says he needs you here to watch out for Becca and Rosie.” Pulling back enough to look in his brother’s eyes, Bucky said, “but remember? I’m to get a job and a home then send for you again. I’m sure once I’m settled, they’ll agree.”

“But . . . how will that change Papa’s decision if he wants me to watch the girls?” TJ asked, eyes searching his brother’s face. He’d never been away from Bucky before and the thought of being states away made his chest feel tight.

“Because, Teej, Papa’s only using the girls as an excuse. He wants me to get a home and job, prove I can take care of your needs. Once I do that, Papa’s bound to think over it again and realize you’ll do well with me. Here on the farm they’re struggling with money worse than back in the city. Me taking you in will help.” Bucky brushed TJ’s curls from his eyes and smiled.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” TJ asked, trying to ignore the building panic in his chest. “You’ll get a job and an apartment real fast, right?”

“By spring at the latest, baby, okay? Six months and I’ll have what we need.” Bucky ran his hands down the sides of TJ’s face, studying his brother’s sad eyes. “And remember? Steve’s there and he says our comic is real popular. We’ve already got money in Brooklyn waiting for us.”

“Then . . . why can’t I come with you? If - - if we have money, we can get an apartment and we can be together,” TJ pleaded, bottom lip quivering slightly.

“I told Papa and he said I need a real apartment and job _first_. He doesn’t think I should rely on savings only. He wants me to bring in money regularly so I can pay for your medical bills. But he said not to tell Momma he talked to me about this, okay?” Bucky kissed TJ’s forehead. “So, you see, Papa’s already agreed to think about sending you to me once I’m settled.”

“But . . . Momma won’t let me go . . . what if we never see each other again?” TJ licked his lips nervously, his mind going through every scenario and not seeing one where he ended up in Brooklyn with Bucky and Steve.

Bucky lifted TJ’s chin and met his eyes once more. “I’ll come back in six months, TJ, to plead to take you home to Brooklyn, okay? In March, I’ll come back. We _will_ see each other.”

“I . . . I - - okay, Buck,” TJ said softly, swallowing thickly as he willed himself not to break down in tears.

Bucky wrapped his arms around TJ and hugged tightly. “I _do_ love you, TJ. I am gonna think about you every day. March can’t come soon enough.”

“I . . . I don’t think . . . I can’t do this . . .” TJ breathed out, whimpering softly, as he wrapped his arms around his brother tightly.

“You can, baby, ‘cause you’re the strongest boy I know. You’re brave and clever and so very, very good.” Bucky stood and carried TJ towards the hallway, out of their shared bedroom. “And I’ll make sure to write so much, Teej.”

“I . . . it won’t be the same,” TJ’s breath hitched in the back of his throat with a sob, “don’t leave me here.”

“TJ, I’m not allowed to take you. I want to so much, but I’m not allowed.” Bucky cuddled his little brother as he carried the boy down the steps, ignoring their Aunt Ruth’s worried look. He walked up to Winifred and shifted TJ into his mother’s arms. “I love you, Teej. Six months.”

Wiping at his eyes frantically, TJ nodded, trying desperately to stay strong, though his thin shoulders were clearly trembling, “I - - I love you, too, Buck . . .”

Nodding, Bucky turned, hefted his pack, and hurried from the room, not even saying goodbye to the rest of the family. Instead, he climbed into the neighbor’s truck, bound for the train station. Taking a deep breath, Bucky glanced out the back window one last time.

As the truck drove away from the farmhouse, leaving dust in its wake, Bucky could see the figure of his brother running after them, TJ swinging his right leg a bit wider than his left, not even using the crutches.

Bucky watched until the truck turned a curve and the image of TJ disappeared in the Indiana dust.

**************

October 18, 1934:

Nervously, Bucky stepped from the train onto the platform. He clutched his single bag of clothing to himself, watching as the great rush of people moved around him like a tidal wave. It had only been three years, but Bucky had forgotten just how busy, how _crowded_ Brooklyn was. He took a deep breath and walked away from the train, through the platform station building, and out onto the busy street.

Turning around fully, Bucky pushed his hat lower on his head and pulled his coat tighter, ignoring the area that gaped in front due to a button breaking off mid-journey. He shivered then started to walk, not exactly knowing where he’d end up. Bucky only knew he’d be looking for people hiring and others letting rooms. He had to get settled, and quickly, if he wanted any chance of getting TJ sent to him.

“Hey! Buck!” A familiar, yet deeper than he remembered, voice called out.

Whirling around, Bucky’s pale blue eyes widened and he blinked, stopping dead on the sidewalk. Looking over the five foot four inch slender blond with the pretty blue eyes, he felt his heart flutter and flip. “Steve?” he rasped then cleared his throat. “Steve Rogers?” Bucky’s right hand fluttered up to the gap in his coat, pulling it shut.

“In the flesh,” Steve grinned brightly, hurrying over to Bucky and hugging him tightly. “God, I’ve missed you, Bucky Barnes!” He pulled back, eyes taking in the very pretty features of his friend. Bucky had gotten taller and filled out more, piling on some more muscle and losing some of his baby fat that had still hung on. “C’mon, you can drop off your things at my place before you go huntin’ for jobs.”

“You sure?” Bucky smiled, his shock dissipating as he fell in step with his best friend. “Thanks, Stevie. It’s odd being in the city again. I feel kinda lost. And . . .” he paused, glanced around, then looked back at Steve, “it’s real weird with no TJ.”

Sighing softly, brushing his blond hair out of his eyes, Steve nodded and asked, looking up at Bucky as they walked, “how’d that go?”

“Which part? The part where I promised to go back in six months to try to get Momma and Papa to agree to let me take him? Or the part where he actually ran behind the truck without his crutches until we left him in the dust?” Bucky shuddered and wrapped his free arm around himself, looking troubled.

Wincing, Steve reached out to gently squeeze Bucky’s shoulder, “we’ll get him out here, Buck, I promise.” The sixteen year old offered a friendly smile, as if they hadn’t been apart for three years. “And he’s runnin’ now? That’s great, Buck! Even if it was for that reason . . . the fact that he can run is good . . .” Steve flushed and cleared his throat, “sorry, probably sound like an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed and added, “run, swim, fish, bale hay, tend the animals, clean, all sorts of useful skills. TJ took to learning them like a bird to flying.”

Blue eyes widening, Steve said, “really? Wow . . . your Momma still keep him at home, though?”

“Yeah,” turning to look around them, Bucky said, “she’s afraid he’ll get into fights. Doesn’t think he’ll resist hitting the other kids with his crutches or kicking them with his metal brace, which is over the foot now.” Bucky shrugged.

“Over the foot? Is that painful for him?” Steve asked worriedly. “And . . . is he really that violent of a kid?”

Laughing, Bucky said, “not at all. TJ’s turned into a real lamb. In fact, I’ve had a bear of a time convincing him that self-defence is okay, as is defending anyone weaker.” Shaking his head at his thoughts, Bucky asked “Stevie? Is your Momma doing okay? She’s not going to be upset I’m moving in for a day or two?”

“Nah, she loves havin’ you around and she asks about you and Teej all the time. How are things goin’ with you, Buck?” Steve asked, looking up at Bucky with curious and worried eyes.

“I’d rather talk about it in private,” Bucky drew his plush bottom lip in between his teeth. He flushed a bit, his eyes darting everywhere but at Steve.

Nodding once, Steve reached out to give Bucky’s shoulder another squeeze, a socially acceptable touch. “Sure, we’re almost there, Buck. You can relax from that long train ride and hit the job search in the mornin’, first light. I’ve been writin’ down wherever I’ve seen places that are hiring.” Obviously Steve knew how important it was to get TJ back in New York, so tried to do whatever he could to help Bucky out. “Several real nice jobs, Buck. Even a few jobs at the newspaper! How cool would that be? You could be a honest reporter!” Steve bumped Bucky’s shoulder gently.

“Newspaper?” Bucky perked up a bit, having not expected such a possibility. Of course, he’d still have to go interview and even get the job, but the very idea of a newspaper job looking for him felt exciting, “Steve, I’ve . . . I’ve got so much to say, and none of it probably belongs on the street. We almost there?” Bucky looked around, frowning, “can’t believe I forgot where you home is.”

Laughing, Steve stopped in front of the exact same apartment building he and his mother lived in before. “Yup,” Steve said, popping the _‘p’_ loudly, “we’re almost there, alright. Mama’s at work, so, it’ll be jus’ you and me for dinner. She made some chicken soup that jus’ has to be reheated on the stove.” Steve lead Bucky up the stairs, his small body graceful and moving with the power of a sleek big cat. He opened the door to the apartment and grinned, “home sweet home.”

Nodding, looking eagerly around, Bucky slipped into the apartment and dropped his bag at his feet. He started taking everything in, his smile growing as he noticed very few changes in the well-loved apartment. FInally, the brunet boy swallowed and turned around. “Things look the same.” He took a breath, “look the same, but they aren’t. Not by a long shot.”

“Bucky, what’s the matter, you look about ready to jump outta your skin. If ya need to stay at a motel, I’ll give ya some of the money the comics made? Two-thirds of it’s yours and Teej’s money anyways . . .” Steve looked worried. He’d hoped that they’d be able to fall back into what they had but Bucky seemed so uncomfortable.

Shaking his head, Bucky said, “no, thanks. Want that for Teej’s medical, you know?” He drew a breath then unbuttoned the coat and took it off, also removing his hat. Bucky hesitated, glanced towards the door, then slipped off his shirt, revealing a heavily bandaged chest.

Eyes widening, Steve gasped, “Bucky? You’re hurt! You shoulda wrote me and delayed traveling until you healed up!” Steve rushed over to examine the bandages.

“Not hurt,” Bucky’s voice dropped to a shamed whisper. He unwrapped the tight bindings quickly, within moments revealing that he’d developed softly rounded breasts. Bucky kept his eyes on the floor, flaming red in face and over shoulders. “I’ve kept developing stupid dame parts.”

Eyes widening, Steve looked up at Bucky’s face and then back down at the small breasts. He didn’t say anything for several long moments before softly asking, “does wrapping them that tight hurt?”

“Yeah, all the time,” Bucky sighed and began to wrap the bindings around his chest once more, used to always keeping his breasts flattened as much as possible. “But, you know, not as bad as those damn cycles. Always feels like something’s clawing me out. Rosie says it’s the same for her, poor thing.”

Steve reached out with one hand to stop Bucky from binding himself up again. “If you want to, I understand, but when you’re here with me and Momma . . . and when we get our own place, you don’t hafta wrap up? I get when you gotta leave the house, but maybe give yourself a break every once in a while?” Steve didn’t pull his hand away, his callused fingers soothing over Bucky’s flesh.

Stopping, Bucky looked down at Steve’s hand on his breast. He slowly unwrapped again, exposing the naked mounds. “You . . . you don’t mind this, Stevie? That I’ve got dame parts?” He didn’t say it out loud, but Bucky actually _liked_ the way Steve’s hand felt on his breast, tenderly soothing the aching from the tight binding. Something stirred low down, below his gut, and he felt himself begin to harden, as well. Flushing, Bucky whispered, “feels good, Stevie . . .”

Smiling softly, Steve lifted his other hand but stopped just shy of touching Bucky’s other breast, “do you mind, Bucky?”

“Not with you I don’t,” Bucky said, softly. “If you don’t mind me getting all hard and achy in my guy parts, too.” He lifted his eyes to study Steve’s features.

Laughing softly, bringing his other hand down to gently begin massaging Bucky’s soft mounds beneath his large hands. He didn’t squeeze too hard, not wanting to hurt Bucky, but he wanted to soothe away the aching from being bound so tightly for that long train ride. “As long as you don’t mind me gettin’ hard and achy in my guy parts,” he said quietly in return, his own cock taking interest in the beautiful sight of his best friend in front of him. And, Steve truly believed Bucky to be beautiful.

Blinking, Bucky drew a breath then leaned in and brushed his lips over Steve’s, mewling slightly at the long missed sensation. “Damn, Stevie . . . I wanna break every rule with you . . .”

“Then, let’s break ‘em,” Steve murmured softly, leaning in closer to kiss Bucky’s lips again, gently nipping at the bottom lip between his teeth as his hands continued their gentle massage.

“You mean,” Bucky breathed between kisses, his own hands beginning to knead Steve’s shoulders, “you wanna . . . go to the bedroom with me?” The brunet dropped one hand down to cup Steve’s bulge, mewling again at the heavy weight in his hand.

Groaning softly, his cock twitching in delight at the pressure on his shaft, Steve nodded and grabbed Bucky’s hand to tug him towards the bedroom. Just as Bucky had last remembered the tiny room, pictures hung up all over the walls, but instead of being all his mother, father or random people on the street, many of the drawings were of the comic character Steve, Bucky, and TJ had created as well as drawings of Bucky and TJ themselves. Steve kicked the door shut as he crashed his lips to Bucky’s.

Kissing back desperately, over and over, Bucky began tugging Steve’s shirt off, gently caressing over the blond’s flat nipples. “Ain't never done nothin’ like this before, Stevie. But I so want to do it with you.”

“I wanna do it with you, too, Buck,” Steve murmured, kissing again before his fingers traced over Bucky’s button for his trousers, “you mind if I open these up, Buck?”

Moving his kisses to Steve’s neck, Bucky whispered, “As long as you don't’ mind what I am down there. I still got both parts, Stevie.” Bucky lowered his own hand to begin unfastening Steve’s trousers.

“Bucky, you’re always gonna be beautiful to me,” Steve breathed out, unfastening Bucky’s trousers and easing them off his hips, which had filled out some since Steve had last seen him. “Gorgeous,” Steve muttered, one of his hands stroking Bucky’s cock over the fabric of his underwear.

Moaning at the sensations, Bucky canted his hips, shoving his cock further into Steve’s hot grip, despite the cloth separating them. “God, yes, Stevie. I want you to touch me and love me. I _need_ you, Steve.” Bucky undid Steve’s drawers and let those drop to the floor around his ankles. Bucky licked his lips when he saw Steve’s shaft. “Stevie . . .” Bucky whimpered and wrapped his fingers around that warm, swollen rod. “So big . . . smell so good . . .”

Groaning, Steve backed Bucky up until the taller teen’s legs hit the edge of the bed; once there, he gave his lover a gentle push to send him falling onto the bed. Steve eased out of the remaining clothes he wore before stripping Bucky of the rest of his and climbing onto the bed as well. “So pretty, Bucky . . .” Steve praised, wrapping his hand around Bucky’s cock once more, pumping it slowly.

Flushing and mewling, squirming in anticipation, Bucky let his legs fall open, revealing not only his hard, thick cock, and heavy balls but the moist opening of his vagina right in front of the puckered rosebud of his anus. “God, I want you, Steve, inside me . . . is that wrong?” Bucky stroked Steve’s shaft along the entire length, base to slit.

“You want me inside of you?” Steve breathed out, still pumping Bucky’s hard cock in his hand, his other fingers tracing over Bucky’s ass and moist opening.

Nodding, kissing Steve’s jaw, Bucky whispered, “I ache inside, Steve. I want you there?” He bucked his hips up, revealing both of his openings quite clearly.

“Buck . . . Mama told me that you can get pregnant and to . . . avoid that, I should never be in there,” Steve’s fingers traced over Bucky’s warm folds.

Closing his eyes, Bucky let out a soft whimper but nodded, closing his legs and flushing brightly. “Yeah, ‘course . . . not thinkin’ straight is all . . .”

“But . . .” Steve commented, gently pushing open Bucky’s legs once more, “you have some place else I could go?”

“I do?” Bucky breathed, opening his eyes, trusting his lover completely. “Then, let’s do that, Stevie. I can learn to suck you real good . . .”

Blinking, Steve laughed, “not that that doesn’t sound amazing, Buck, because it does . . . but, if you want me _inside_ you, I can go here?” Steve traced his fingers over Bucky’s puckered ring of muscle, not breaching it.

Moaning, the sensations over his opening drawing him in with hints of pleasure, Bucky nodded and lifted a leg out of the way, revealing himself completely to Steve. “Yeah, there is good. I want you so bad, Stevie . . . I hurt with it.” He rolled over and pushed to his hands and knees, looking over his shoulder at Steve. “This way?”

“I think we can do it either way?” Steve commented, reaching out to open the drawer by his bed and pulling out a jar of _Vaseline_ his mother had given him just the other day after she learned Bucky would be returning home.

Laying back down and rolling to his back once more, Bucky let his legs fall open very widely. He watched Steve with wide, trusting eyes, the elder but, in some aspects, the more naive one. “Ya want me ta help ya, Steve? I can put that all over your dick . . .”

“Gotta make sure you can take me, first, Buck, Mama explained it to me,” Steve smiled softly, opening the jar and thoroughly coating one finger. He brought that finger down to Bucky’s entrance and started to circle the slick substance around Bucky’s ring of muscle, not breaching yet, just relaxing the muscles.

Crying out in soft surprise, Bucky’s eyes widened and he trembled all over. “Steve . . . never . . . . never thought it’d feel good _there_.”

Smiling, Steve continued to circle around and around, beginning to carefully breach Bucky’s entrance, knowing his lover would be very tight down there. He brought his other hand up to begin massaging one of Bucky’s breasts again, enjoying the soft flesh beneath his fingers. “So, so pretty, Buck . . .”

Panting at the various delightful sensations and the low burning in his belly, Bucky said, “even if I’m two things?”

“Nope, remember, I tol’ you. You’re a boy . . . well, a _man_ , now, and I love you so much,” Steve cooed softly, gently pushing in the one slicked finger, letting Bucky get accustomed to it.

Keening his pleasure, Bucky clenched around Steve’s digit instinctively. Realizing things couldn’t progress that way, he fought to keep under control, allowing Steve to pleasure him and loosen him at the same time rectally. Bucky moaned and bucked slightly, flushing, “yeah, definitely want you inside me, Stevie . . .” Bucky began to kiss Steve on his mouth, cheeks, temples, eyes: anywhere he could reach.

The next several minutes were filled with Steve slowly, carefully opening Bucky up, not wanting to rush this very important step. Sarah had told Steve that if he or Bucky rushed the stretching part that the one on the receiving end could wind up very seriously hurt, torn open on the inside. Not wanting to cause Bucky any pain, Steve took his time, enjoying the sounds Bucky made, the pleased expressions on his features. After nearly twenty minutes, Steve finally pulled out his four fingers and coated his cock in the _Vaseline_.

Whimpering at the loss of the full sensation, the pumping and caressing internally, Bucky said, “that felt real good, Stevie . . . maybe we can do that again real soon?” He kissed Steve’s lips, smiling.

“Bucky, that wasn’t even the best part . . .” Steve chuckled and positioned himself with a kiss to Bucky’s lips, lining his cock up with Bucky’s loosened entrance.

Feeling the large cockhead at his vrigin rectum, Bucky breathed in deeply and met Steve’s eyes. “I love you, Stevie,” he said, softly.

“I love you, Buck,” Steve breathed out and eased into Bucky’s body, moving smoothly and slowly until he bottomed out, his balls slapping up against Bucky’s ass. He stayed still once fully embedded, wanting Bucky to get the chance to get used to the full feeling. Steve let out a groan, dropping his face into Bucky’s neck.

With a groan of equal desire and pleasure, Bucky threw his head back and panted out, “God, so full . . . really in me. We’re one, together . . . I love you so much, my Stevie!”

“My Bucky,” Steve groaned, easing out and then back in, fucking Bucky slowly at first, not sure how it might feel best for Bucky.

Carefully lifting a leg, Bucky wrapped it around his lover, inadvertently pulling Steve deeper. Gasping, hips canting to meet that deeper thrust, Bucky mewled, “God, yes, Stevie . . . need you . . . need you deep . . . need you full . . .”

Kissing Bucky’s lips again, Steve eased out, almost all the way, before thrusting sharply back in, inadvertently stroking over Bucky’s prostate in the process. Bucky yelped in shock and delight, his entire body shuddering at the unexpected pleasure, his heel pressing into Steve’s ass crack. Spurred on by the noises Bucky made, Steve nipped at his lover’s neck, continuing that same rhythm over and over again, hitting Bucky’s prostate every few strokes.

Bucky’s body continued to tremble and he kept mewling and keening. His eyes rolled back into his head and he let out a long, low moan before his entire body shuddered. Cum sprayed from his turgid cock, dirtying Steve and Bucky across their abdomens and pelvises. “Steve!” Bucky shouted as he orgasmed.

Eyes widening, Steve clamped his hand down over Bucky’s mouth before the sound could carry, “gotta be quiet, Bucky,” Steve murmured, as he continued to shunt in and out of Bucky’s ass until finally he felt his orgasm building up. He pumped in three more times before thrusting in one last time, filling Bucky with warm, thick cum, so full that some leaked around his cock out of Bucky’s ass.

Bucky gave a last shudder and clutched Steve’s shoulders, burying his face in the sweaty flesh. He let out a very soft whimper. “Oh, thank you, Steve . . . thank you for loving me.”

“I’ll always love you,” Steve murmured, easing out of Bucky’s ass slowly, dragging cum and slick out with him. “Gotta clean up . . .” Steve yawned though, tired after such intense loving. Steve stroked his fingers down Bucky’s flank, collapsing to the side, between Bucky and the wall. Luckily, Steve was small enough that they could both fit on the small bed; it was tight, but they could definitely manage.

Bucky murmured and kissed Steve’s temple, “need rest. Did real well. I feel like I’m floating, Stevie.” He smiled and let half-closed eyes take in the fuzzy image of his well-loved Steve. “Stevie? Marry me?” he asked softly.

Smiling softly, Steve nodded, knowing that they could never legally get married, but they could be married in every way that counted, “yeah, Buck, I’ll marry you.”

“My husband,” Bucky murmured and nuzzled at Steve’s temple. “So, I’m James Rogers . . .”

Humming softly, dropping a kiss to Bucky’s temple and then his lips, Steve breathed out, “sure does have a nice ring to it . . .”

“Yeah . . . yeah it does.” Bucky let his eyes close completely, ignoring the drying cum all over them both, settling down to nap with Steve. It had been three years they’d been apart - - and Steve still loved him.

**************

January 15, 1935:

Steve stepped up behind Bucky, snaking his arms around his lover’s hips, “wish ya could stay in today . . .” the blond murmured softly, leaning up on the tips of his toes to place a kiss on the back of Bucky’s neck.

Smiling, Bucky turned in Steve’s arms and kissed his lover. Caressing down Steve’s chest to just over his crotch, Bucky said, “so do I, doll.” Despite Bucky being the one with the female body parts, Steve had wound up with the feminine pet name. Bucky kissed again, “but you know Mr. Jabowitz. Only for family emergencies or hospital stays can I call off. You know, he’s said he could use another illustrator once you graduate? I showed him some of your work and he’s impressed.”

Grinning brightly, Steve said, “that’d be great! Gee, thanks, Buck!” Steve kissed again, “well, I suppose I should let the working man get to work, huh?” Steve looked around Bucky’s small apartment, smaller than the one Steve and Sarah shared. But, the rent had been cheap and Bucky could easily afford it on his salary.

“And I should let the caretaker get back to cleaning his upstairs neighbor’s cabbage-smelling apartment,” Bucky laughed softly. “Anything to keep the rent coming in, right?” Steve’s upstairs neighbor had broken her hip last winter and Sarah cleaned for her for some coins each week. That week, Steve would be doing it, since Sarah hadn’t felt well.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve sighed softly. He kissed Bucky’s lips again and opened his mouth to say something when the phone in the apartment starting to ring.

“Don’t be late to school, Steve, okay?” Bucky frowned and pulled out of his lover’s arms. Picking up the phone he said, “James Barnes, may I help you?”

“Bucky?” His mother’s voice trembled with a very intense emotion that Bucky couldn’t quite place.

“Momma? What’s wrong? You sound upset?” Bucky jumped right to the point, skipping the greetings and exchanges of love.

“It’s . . . Bucky . . . it’s your father . . .” Winnie let out a shaky breath, as if just _talking_ was exhausting.

“Papa?” Bucky’s eyes widened and he looked over to Steve. “What’s happened to Papa, Momma? Is he sick? I can wire money . . .”

With a sudden sob, Winnie managed to choke out, “he . . . there was an . . . accident, Bucky . . . Papa . . . he - - he didn’t make it . . . TJ . . .” The woman sounded like she could barely form a sentence in her grief.

“TJ’s hurt, too?” Bucky asked, desperation rising. All he heard was that Papa and TJ had been in an accident. Papa _gone_ didn’t register; that wasn’t possible, after all. Papa would live forever.

“TJ . . . TJ’s fine,” Winnie took a deep, shaky breath, trying to get herself back under control. “But . . . Bucky - - he . . . he was there . . . he saw the truck hit . . . hit Papa . . .”

“Momma, I’ll get the train out there as soon as I can. It’ll take a couple days. You gonna be okay?” Bucky started making plans, burying his emotions to get through what needed to be done.

“I’ll be okay . . . but . . . Bucky, TJ hasn’t said a word since . . . since the accident . . . I can’t get him to even eat . . .” Winnie sounded exhausted and worried and grief-stricken.

“I’m on my way, Momma, don’t you let them put TJ in a hospital if he’s not bleeding, okay? I’m on my way.” The desperate brunet kept staring at Steve, his eyes showing bewilderment and worry.

“Okay . . . I’ll see you in a few days, Bucky,” Winnie said, releasing another trembling breath.

“And you fill one of those baby lamb bottles with milk and dribble it into him like a stubborn lamb, okay? Aunt Ruthie showed us how,” Bucky finally, firmly, ordered her.

“Okay . . . okay, I will, be . . . be safe, Bucky,” Winnie said softly, taking the order easily. After all, Bucky had been the one to care for TJ for years.

Bucky softened his voice. “I love you, Momma. Tell TJ I’m coming. I’ll call when I buy the ticket.”

“I will. I love you, too, Bucky,” Winnie said before the line disconnected.

Bucky hung up the receiver, looking shell shocked, but headed for his suitcase, grabbing and rolling clothing to fit inside, including his Sabbath clothes.

“Bucky . . . what happened?” Steve asked, having followed his lover into the bedroom. He had only heard one half of the conversation, but he could tell something had happened to Bucky’s father and TJ.

“Papa was hit by a truck. TJ won’t eat or talk. Momma needs me,” Bucky reported in a slightly dazed sounding tone.

“Is your Papa okay?” Steve asked, eyes widening in shock at the news.

Shaking his head, Bucky headed to the small bathroom that had come as part of the tiny apartment. He grabbed his shaving supplies, not that he grew much facial hair, and tooth powder and brush, “no, Momma said he didn’t make it.” Bucky grabbed his comb.

“He . . .” Steve breathed out, shaking himself as he said, “Bucky . . . I’m so sorry . . .” Steve reached out to put his hand on Bucky’s forearm.

The taller man turned and blinked then pulled Steve into a very tight hug, burying his face in his lover’s neck and shoulder. “Don’t die on me while I’m gone?” It was a mixed up request, but spoke to the heart of Bucky’s loss.

“I’ll be right here when you get back,” Steve promised, hugging just as tightly in return. “I promise. I’ll go tell Mr. Jabowitz what happened, okay? That you’ll be gone for a few days.”

“Thanks, Stevie. I . . . I’ve gotta help with the funeral and things, and get TJ eating again, and get Momma to let me take TJ home with me.” Bucky drew a deep breath and stepped back. “I gotta see if I can get a train to Indiana . . . it’ll take some connecting up and transferring.”

“Do whatever you need to do, Bucky,” Steve nodded, stroking Bucky’s arm again.

Nodding, Bucky picked up his wallet from the bureau and pulled out a five dollar bill. He offered it to Steve. “For your Momma while she’s so sick, Steve. Since I won’t be around to help you with her. Want her getting better, right?”

Blinking, Steve looked at the money and then up at Bucky. However, he didn’t waste time by trying to argue with Bucky that he didn’t need it. Instead, Steve took the money and carefully slipped it into the pocket of his trousers, knowing it would make Bucky feel a little better if he had it, “thanks, Buck.” Steve leaned up to gently kiss Bucky’s lips, “safe travels, okay? I’ll be right here when you get back, okay? I love you.”

Nodding, Bucky traced Steve’s cheek. “You better be, and don’t let your Momma bully you into getting her sweets and pop with that. It’s for medicine, okay?” Bucky offered a smile. He turned and slipped into his heavy woolen overcoat, shoving his feet in rubber overshoes. Pulling on his hat and pocketing the wallet and thick leather gloves Steve had managed to get him for Hanukkah, Bucky grabbed his suitcase. “Be back in a week or so.”

Steve nodded, walking with Bucky to the door, “I’ll lock up the apartment and go straight to Mr. Jabowitz and then get Mama medicine, okay? You just focus on your family.”

Nodding, Bucky kissed Steve’s lips. “I love you, Steve . . . my husband,” he murmured. Bucky took a breath and opened the door, hurrying out, down the hall, and into the storm outside. He was glad he’d gotten Steve a thick scarf and new gloves for his Christmas present. The sixteen year old would need it in that weather.

Fortunately, it only took two days to get to his Aunt’s home in Shelbyville. He’d been fortunate with the connections and even hiring a man at the station to drive him to the farm. Thanking the stranger, someone just passing through, again, Bucky shut the car door and turned to look at his Aunt’s farmhouse, snow blanketing the roof and ground, the greenery leafless and brown. Bucky stepped in through the gate, closing it securely so the dogs wouldn’t get out, and headed for the steps of the sturdy home.

When Bucky shut the car door, he heard the familiar bark of Luna, the white and grey Husky bounding over to the man who’d been gone for so long. Luna jumped up on Bucky’s legs, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

Delight lit his pale eyes even through his rising grief and worry. Bucky knelt down and stroked the dog’s ears. “Good boy, Luna! How’re you doing, boy?”

Luna shifted from foot to foot, barking again before licking happily at Bucky’s cheek.

“I hear our TJ needs us, huh?” Bucky asked, rising to his feet and grabbing his bag once more. “Are you still allowed in the house? C’mon, let’s go see to TJ.”

The door to the farmhouse opened and Winnie could be seen through the screen door before that opened as well. Bucky’s mother wore all black, her face etched with exhaustion and sadness, several more grey hairs streaked through her brunette hair that had been pulled back into her normal braid.

“The funeral’s tomorrow, Momma. I made it in time,” Bucky said, knowing their own faith’s requirements of burying the body in three days.

Nodding, Winnie suddenly lurched forward and hugged Bucky tightly, burying her face in his neck.

He dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around his mother tightly. It’d only been a few months, but it felt like years, so much had happened. “I love you, Momma. I wish I’d been here to do something. I’m so sorry . . .”

Sniffling softly, pulling back and wiping at her eyes, Winnie shook her head, “there would have been nothing you could have done, sweetheart. Come, let’s get you out of the cold.” She turned and lead Bucky, who scooped up his suitcase again, into the warm home, Luna bounding inside before the seventeen year old. “Rosie is warming up a bottle for TJ and Becca’s sitting in with him right now.”

“Has it worked? Giving him the bottle?” Bucky asked softly.

“It’s the only thing he somewhat allows,” Winnie wiped at her eyes again, her hand trembling.

Nodding, Bucky said, “I’ll bring his next one then. He saw the entire thing?” Bucky set his case on the floor by the steps.

“The entire thing,” Winnie said with a nod, letting out a deep sigh, “wouldn’t let go of . . . of your father until the police had to pull him away.” Winnie swallowed thickly and led Bucky into the large kitchen of the farmhouse.

“Give me the bills for the funeral, Momma. I’ll pay those,” Bucky ordered softly.

“Bucky!” Rosie smiled sadly when she heard her older brother’s voice.

“Hey, who’re you? Not little Rosie?” he asked his fourteen year old sister, opening his arms for a hug. “You’ve gotten too pretty. Stop that or we’ll never keep the boys away.”

Shaking her head, Rosie hugged Bucky tightly and then let go to pull the bottle carefully out of the boiling water. She set it on the counter so it could cool. She turned off the stove.

“Aunt Ruth in with Papa?” Bucky asked softly.

Winnie nodded, “yes, she’s been in with him for most of the last two days. Her Gregory died in a car accident a few years ago . . .” Winnie shook her head and let out a deep sigh.

Nodding, Bucky picked up the bottle and tested the glass and liquid. Satisfied, he said, “let me try to get TJ to eat this time, Rosie.”

“Please? He’s hardly moved, Bucky. Becca is a wreck,” Rosie looked very worried for her siblings.

“Did Becca or you see everything?” Bucky asked in sudden intense worry.

“No, Papa was taking TJ to get a new brace fitted since he grew a few inches,” Rosie reported.

Freezing, Bucky said, “Momma, you never said TJ blamed _himself_ for Papa dying! My God, TJ must think he _killed_ Papa!” He turned and hurried into the bedroom where TJ was housed. Nodding to Becca, who merely looked surprised and speechless, Bucky eased onto the bed and stroked his fingers through TJ’s curls. “Hey, baby. I’m here now.”

TJ hardly reacted to the sudden appearance of his beloved older brother, his pale eyes staring blankly at the wall across from him. The ten year old looked clean, at least, no doubt because of the effort of Winnie and the girls, but his skin was pale and sallow, dark circles standing out under his eyes.

Bucky nodded and reached down to sit TJ up completely, bracing him with one arm. He put the bottle to TJ’s lips, tilting it to let some milk dribble out. “Okay, well, you eat first then we’ll talk.”

TJ whimpered softly, trying to turn his head away from the milk, some of it dribbling down his chin.

“Fine, talk first,” Bucky stated firmly. “I hear you were on the way for a new brace when some asshole with a truck ran you and Papa over.” He deliberately made it sound like TJ had been injured as well. “It’s a miracle you’re alive, baby. And Luna wasn’t even scratched.”

Tears filled TJ’s eyes as he looked up at his older brother, his bottom lip trembling. He dropped his head to Bucky’s shoulder, his thin body curling up as tightly as possible against Bucky’s side.

“That had to be the most terrifying thing, Teej. Seeing that truck come for you guys. Then having to try to care for Papa, despite not being a doctor. You’re so brave and smart, but even someone like me wouldn’t have been able to save him. That asshole with the truck was a killer for sure. Did anyone catch him, baby?”

TJ nodded, not lifting his face from Bucky’s shoulder, his entire body trembling.

“Well, that’s a good thing. He can’t go running over anyone else from jail. And you tried so hard to help Papa, didn’t you, baby?” Bucky stroked his brother’s curls. “Even gave up your brace in case God would give Papa back in exchange, huh?”

TJ sobbed and clung onto Bucky tightly, his hands bunching up the fabric of his brother’s coat. “He - - he . . . pushed . . . me out of the way . . .”

Dropping a kiss to TJ’s curls Bucky said, “well of course he did, TJ. It’s what Papas do. They push the kids out of the way so the kids get a better chance. We never want to lose Papas, but you know the rules, Papas should never have to bury kids if at all possible. The kids bury their Papas. It’s not fair and it hurts worse than anything, but that’s the way of the world, right?” Bucky dropped another kiss. “Just it shouldn’t be _now_ , and we’ll make sure that asshole stays in jail for a long time for what he did to _our_ Papa.”

“My . . . my fault,” TJ sobbed, his voice cracking as the sobs wracked his thin frame.

“Your fault?” Bucky sounded surprised. “Okay, tell me how it’s your fault so we can do penance for it, okay?” He lifted his brother’s chin, meeting his eyes with serious ones, though love shone through. “You tell me how you killed our Papa, TJ.”

“Wouldn’t . . . wouldn’t be - - be there . . . if . . . if not for . . . for me,” TJ tried to breathe but each breath caught in the back of his throat.

Doing some mental figuring, Bucky said, “it was a Monday, right? Papa always does the shopping and errands on a Monday. He’d have been out in town even if you stayed home. Try again.”

“He - - he wouldn’t have been _there_ . . . ‘cause I needed a stupid brace!” TJ cried, his fingers scratching at his right leg. Bucky could see other scratch marks, red and angry, standing out against the twisted limb.

“Okay, close your eyes. I know you see everything. Who else was out there beside you and Papa and the asshole with the truck?” Bucky prompted. He gently removed TJ’s hand from his leg and held it.

After a long moment, Bucky filled in the silence, “let me guess. Mrs. Lincolnshire with her grandchildren? Mr. Ryers going to the bank? Mrs. and Mr. Jenkins with their new baby in a pram? Same as any other Monday?”

“D - - doesn’t matter . . .” TJ sobbed.

“Baby, it does. You needing the brace, Papa wanting to get it Monday instead of Tuesday, saved someone else. Don’t you see? God in his infinite wisdom wanted someone. He saw who was there and said, “oh, good, not a child today. Instead I’ll take my James back and his son can take over. No . . .”

“God is stupid,” TJ snapped out, angry and upset.

Bucky felt relief at the anger, knowing TJ need to express that to start recovering. “Sometimes, I think you’re right. But, he’s a very, very old man, TJ. Not exactly keeping up with the times he started.” Bucky hugged TJ. “So, we know who really killed Papa . . . the asshole with the truck. That’s who had the truck and did the driving.” Bucky held up the lamb’s bottle again. “Want some soup instead?”

“My stomach hurts . . .” TJ muttered, wiping at his eyes with a shaky hand.

Nodding, Bucky stroked TJ’s curls and dropped a kiss to his brother’s head. “It’s a mix of anger and grief and shame and hunger, baby. You haven’t eaten much waiting for the stupid trains to get me here.”

“Jus’ gonna throw it up,” TJ said softly.

“Well, maybe whatever nasty bug is in there will come up with it, you think?” Bucky stood and picked up TJ. “Hey, you managed to keep the womenfolk hopping after you, haven’t you? All clean and stuff!” He kissed TJ’s forehead and whispered, “me and Steve are still married, baby. Now really married, even if there was no service.”

“That’s . . . good,” TJ let his head fall back to Bucky’s shoulder, his body a little lighter than it was a few months before.

Softly, Bucky asked, “not eating much since I left at all, huh? Been feeling all sick inside that long?” He carried TJ into the kitchen and sat on a chair in front of their surprised mother. Settling TJ in his lap, Bucky lifted the bottle. “So, milk or broth, Teej?”

“My stomach always hurts,” TJ replied softly, eyeing the bottle with a soft frown, “jus’ gonna throw it up and milk is gross thrown up . . .” TJ turned his head into Bucky’s neck.

“Broth it is. Less gross?” He looked to his mother. “I smell some chicken boiling. Can we please get a small cup of just the broth and maybe the heel of bread?”

Their mother got to work on the actual meal for her youngest son. Luna’s nails clicked against the hard flooring of the kitchen, the dog making soft whimpering noises as he sat right at Bucky’s feet, his head looking up at the pair of boys.

Whispering, Bucky said, “Luna’s worried about his master. You gonna touch his head and let him know he’s been a good dog?”

Looking down at his dog, TJ sniffled softly, reaching down to stroke the top of the dog’s head.

Bucky kissed TJ’s temple. “Momma, I must admit, I have been a bad boy. I taught TJ to swear today.”

Winnie looked over, strands of her hair falling out of her braid as she worked on scooping up some chicken broth without burning herself. “Well . . . since your father has . . . was just as bad, I figure it’s a lost cause now.”

Bucky nodded and stroked TJ’s hair. “I told him the man with the truck is an asshole.”

Making a soft noise, Winnie nodded, setting the bowl of broth and piece of bread down in front of Bucky and TJ. “Can’t really argue with that,” Winnie said softly.

Nodding, Bucky ripped off a piece of the bread and dipped it into the brother. He brought the soggy bite to TJ’s mouth. “Go ahead, it won’t be bad, I promise. I’m here now, Teej. That nasty stomach bug won’t dare show his face near Bucky.”

Swallowing thickly, TJ opened his mouth and allowed Bucky to feed him the soggy bite. He chewed it and then swallowed the bread. For the first time in months, TJ didn’t feel like the piece was going to come straight back up.

Smiling, kissing TJ’s temple, Bucky said, “give it a minute to sneak past that bug, okay? Then we’ll sneak in another. Like soldiers going into enemy camp. Soon there’ll be enough that he’ll be overrun and give up.” He waited a bit then fed TJ another soggy bite.

It took awhile but they were able to finish the entire piece of bread as well as the bowl of broth. TJ’s lips shone slightly from the broth as he lay his head on Bucky’s shoulder, his eyes drooping shut in exhaustion, finally letting himself sleep now that Bucky was home.

“There’s my good Teej.” Bucky kissed his brother’s temple and held him close in a warm cuddle, ignoring how hot it felt still in his outdoor things after all that time.

Winnie walked over and carefully helped Bucky ease out of his outerwear without hardly moving the silently sleeping TJ. “He’s been having such a hard time since you left,” Winnie said softly, carefully folding Bucky’s coat over the chair next to him. She started working on his rubber overshoes next.

“Seems such a bad time to discuss this, but I’m gonna anyway. Momma, I’d like to take TJ back to New York with me. I make more working for the paper than this farm does, so I can support him. And with the low amount of jobs and money going around since that market crash a few years back, you need every penny for the girls.” He lifted his eyes. “I’ve got a one bedroom place with a built in bathroom back in Brooklyn, a couple blocks from Steve and Sarah Rogers. Sarah’s a nurse, you remember, and can help if TJ is sick.”

Looking worried, Winnie straighten after pulling off both of Bucky’s overshoes, “I . . . I don’t know, Bucky . . . your father thought that New York was bad for him? He was getting violent . . .”

“I’ll channel that violence right. You saw how I helped Steve get his own violence in check. Use it at the gym, boxing and stuff. I can take TJ swimming there, too. They built in a pool now and there’s always a life saving man on duty. TJ will have someone watching all the time while he swims. We live right over a pharmacy, too. Not far to get his medicine if he gets sick, and the back of the shop they use for fitting polio patients. TJ won’t have to leave the building for his new braces, Momma.”

What Bucky didn’t mention was that he’d be sending TJ to proper school, among other children his age. Bucky always felt TJ needed more socialization skills to keep him in touch with his humanity. Hiding him away led to violence and anger, in Bucky’s opinion. And there were kids who went to school who’d had polio or other diseases they survived. TJ wouldn’t be the only one _different_.

Rubbing at her eyes, Winnie sagged slightly in exhaustion, “Bucky . . . you have to promise me you’ll take care of him. You . . . he’ll need guidance and love and even punishment if he does something wrong. Do you think you can handle that?”

Bucky reached over and took his mother’s hand, squeezing lightly, “and I’ve been doing that for him since I was seven, Momma. I promise to finish raising him the way you and Papa would want. Make you proud of the man he becomes. I promise, I never had to stand in a soup line yet and we won’t need to now, Momma.”

Eyes worried, taking in the sight of the small yet tall boy folded in Bucky’s arms, sleeping finally, Winnie slowly nodded and let out a sigh, “okay . . . after the funeral you can take him back to New York. But, I expect weekly letters telling me about his week, from _you_.”

Smiling, the seventeen year old said, “I can promise the weekly letters, like always, but I’ll do you one better, Momma. I’ll make TJ write, too, and put his letters in with mine.”

Winnie reached out to stroke her fingers through TJ’s curls, letting out a soft sigh, “your Aunt Ruth talked to me about a home for disabled children . . . I didn’t want to send him there but . . . without your Papa, I wouldn’t be able to afford his care . . .”

"Momma, look at me," Bucky met his mother's eyes, "you won't be putting TJ in any home. I can afford to house and feed and care for him. You know I'll take good care of him. I always have. And when the summer comes, we'll come visit." He squeezed lightly on her soft, careworn hand. “I love you, and so does TJ. And this is better than shipping him off, Momma. He’ll be with someone who loves him very much, despite his leg.” Reminding his mother softly, Bucky said, “didn’t I prove it when I showed my body to that cop to save them sending TJ away?”

“I love you, Bucky,” Winnie squeezed her son’s hand in return, “I know you’ll take care of him. He’s just so . . . he’s always been _your_ boy, and I’m sorry I’ve fought with you so much over him.” The woman looked so tired, as if she’d aged twenty years in the last few months.

“Mama, he’s always been _your_ boy, but I was the one who cared for him so you could care for everyone else. It’s as easy as that. Didn’t you tell me your older sister was more your mother than your own Momma? Same thing.” Bucky smiled softly, “but that you always loved your Momma with a fierce heart? Knew she did her best for you?”

Letting out a soft breath, Winnie nodded, her eyes meeting Bucky’s once more. “Yes, I suppose it is the same thing.” Swallowing thickly, Winnie breathed out, “Bucky, how am I going to do this without your Papa?”

“You’ll have Rosie help you, and Becca’s ten now. She’s not incapable of helping out. I happen to know from her letters that she does _all the laundry and dishes_ ,” he took on a dramatic air when telling that bit.

Snorting softly, Winnie rolled her eyes and said, “yes, I make her do dishes twice a week and help me with laundry.” She looked down at TJ and then back at Bucky, “will you be able to take Luna? I don’t think TJ would be okay with leaving Luna here. They are attached at the hip.”

“Sure I can take Luna. He can help keep TJ on track.” Bucky winked. “And now you make sure Becca takes over all the laundry and dishes, and Rosie take over the cleaning, Momma, so you can help Aunt Ruth with the farm. Okay? Those girls will be women soon, and their future husbands will appreciate the training they get now.” He stood, lifting TJ in his strong arms. “I’m going to go see Papa and Aunt Ruth now. Thanks for getting me TJ’s lunch. Come, Luna, heel.” He turned to head to the front parlor.


	8. Too Many Returns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Attack on a child, Severe Trauma, Non-con with child, Intersex, Eating disorder, Self-doubt, Self-loathing**

January 24, 1935:

Stepping off the train, carrying two suitcases, Bucky let his eyes rove over the platform, looking for a familiar small blond. He drew a breath and stepped out of the way of the steps from the carriage. He hadn’t seen Steve so figured his secret lover wasn’t able to meet him. Putting down both bags, Bucky turned and offered a hand to TJ, not to grab him but to catch him if he over balanced.

TJ stepped off the carriage, able to get off without falling over, Luna jumping out behind the boy. The dog had been trained to remain by TJ without the use of a leash since TJ needed both his hands to use his crutches. The thin ten year old looked around the train station with wide eyes, breathing in the once familiar scents of New York.

“Heck of a lot of people, huh, Teej?” Bucky grinned, picking up the bags once more. “Glad to be back? Feels like home?”

TJ nodded but what he’d been about to say was cut off by Steve calling, “hey, Buck! Wait - - is that _TJ_?” The small blond hurried forward, weaving through the crowds.

Smile widening, Bucky nodded happily, “Teej, that’s Steve. Steve!” he called loudly. “We’re home! I’m afraid Luna turned into a small pony . . .”

“I’d say!” Steve grinned, hugging Bucky in greeting and then TJ, before stroking the large Husky’s ears. “Wow! I didn’t think you’d be able to get TJ out here so soon!”

“It because TJ couldn’t eat while I was gone. He’s actually here for his heath, Steve. He’s a very sensitive boy. Momma realized he’ll thrive better in the city with me than on the farm.” Bucky smiled at TJ. “I think Papa would have eventually relented, but who knows how skinny Teej would have become before that.” The older brother looked back at his lover. “And the crash hit everyone hard. The farm’s gonna need Momma full time to succeed. They don’t have enough for all three, so TJ coming to me was the best choice all around.” He didn’t dwell on his father’s death.

“That’s great,” Steve smiled, “welcome back, Teej,” Steve wore the scarf and gloves Bucky had bought him for Christmas. “Wanna show him his home, Buck?” Steve grinned.

“Yeah, let’s get back to the apartment. How’s _your_ Momma doing? Better?” Bucky guided the small group to the car for hire Steve had waiting for them.

“Yeah, a little better, still has that cough though, but she says that’s usually the last thing to clear up,” Steve walked with Bucky and TJ to the car, letting Bucky help get TJ situated first before slipping into the back with the two brothers.

Nodding, Bucky said, “always was with you. Sometimes you cough so bad when you’re sick, I think your lungs will burst outta your chest or throat.” He nodded to the driver and gave his address over the pharmacy. Bucky hadn’t told TJ anything about the new apartment, too busy arranging things for his mother, the funeral, and TJ and Luna’s move.

TJ looked out the window, watching as the city passed by them. “Everything looks the same, Buck . . .” TJ said softly, unknowingly echoing one of the first things Bucky had pointed out to Steve when he’d first returned.

“Yeah, it does. Good ole New York, huh?” Bucky hugged TJ then smiled at Steve on his other side. “It’s great to be back.” He remained very aware that he couldn’t touch Steve in front of the driver, so held in his true hello for when they got to the apartment. The cab arrived rather quickly, much to Bucky’s relief. He paid the driver and helped TJ from the car, grabbing his suitcases from the trunk. “Now you’re back in the city, Teej, we have to get a collar and license for Luna. It’s a new ordinance. No license, the dog goes to the pound and gets killed in three days. So, we’ll get this license today.”

Blinking slowly, TJ looked down at his dog and then back up at Bucky, “he don’t need a leash does he? ‘Cause, I can’t use a leash . . .”

Shaking his head, Bucky said, “a collar with a special tag is all. Just so they know he’s not a stray or got the rabies or anything.”

“Oh, okay, we can do that,” TJ agreed with a nod, looking up at the apartment building built above the pharmacy.

“Now, the pharmacy is right here and the back room they use for fitting Polio patients and others who need braces and stuff. We live on the second floor in a corner apartment. We got lucky. We’ve got a bathroom built in so don’t have to share.” Bucky smiled proudly at the building he’d managed to find a place in. “Steve lives two blocks down the same street that way, still in the same place as before. And the public school is two blocks in the other direction. Steve’s said he’ll come by to walk with you there and back, since it’s on the way to the high school.” Bucky headed for the apartment building door.

Eyes widening even more, TJ’s mouth dropped open in shock, “wait . . . _school_?”

Stopping, turning to look at TJ then grin at Steve, Bucky looked back at his brother and said, “why? Don’t wanna go no more?”

“You . . . you mean it? I can go to school?” TJ asked, breathlessly.

Nodding, Bucky said, “I’ll get the dog stuff today and tomorrow is Tuesday so I’ll take you to the school and get you signed in. I’ll explain you’ve never been before so ask if they can give you some tests to place you for learning. Steve will walk you back and forth until he graduates, then you’ll be able to do it yourself if you want. Luna can’t go with you, so he’ll be with me at the newspaper office, which is just across the street and down two buildings.” Bucky grinned at TJ. “Coming up, Teej?”

TJ looked at Bucky and then at Steve, who smiled, before he nodded and followed Bucky into the building, Steve taking up the rear as Bucky lead the trio to the correct apartment.

“Now, I know it’s a bit of a long hall, but no running, okay? Not inside. The landlady has lots of families here with babies who are trying to sleep.” Bucky smiled at TJ. “Go ahead, Teej. Open the door marked _two-kay_.” He pointed with his chin to a corner apartment door with a number two and a letter K on it.

TJ hobbled over to the correct door and opened it, moving into the small apartment, Luna staying close by his master, also looking around the new space with perked ears and a wagging tail.

“Teej, I use the bedroom back through that door so you get this main room here, okay? The bathroom's through that other door, and we have that small area for a cooking area right by the front door. The sink’s in the bathroom. It’s not much, but it’s home.” With a shrug, putting down the cases, Bucky added, “this was a utility cleaning area they used to store things and clean mops and buckets. She turned it into another apartment to get more rent, but only charges half the normal rent she charges for the larger places.”

Steve shut the door after he walked inside, giving them all the privacy.

TJ turned back to Bucky and smiled softly, “it’s really nice, Bucky. Sure it’s small, but we don’t need a huge place.”

Nodding, Bucky stepped over to TJ and hugged him close. “Finally got you back home, baby. Been trying my hardest to meet Papa’s requirements. I know he can rest knowing I’m caring for you so Momma and the girls can afford better dresses. I saw the patches on patches they were wearing.” He sighed. “I’m afraid we live better off here than they do there, Teej.”

“But . . . maybe they’ll have more money since I won’t be there, costin’ them a fortune with new braces an’ stuff?” TJ said, worrying at his bottom lip.

Lifting TJ’s chin, Bucky smiled, “I don’t mind the fortune, okay? And yeah, that’s the idea. They can afford better while they know I can afford you. We’ll all be better this way. And I promised Momma you’d write each week and we’ll visit in the summer.” Looking around, Bucky sighed, “wanna get Luna’s registration since we’re still dressed for outside?”

“I don’t want Luna to get taken away,” TJ nodded, stroking his fingers through Luna’s fur, the dog lapping at TJ’s fingers. “Thanks for lettin’ be bring Luna, Buck.”

“It’s not a problem. I was gonna anyway. The landlady said she’d welcome a dog on the premises to scare robbers away.” Bucky squatted down and cupped TJ’s face. “This place is usually for ladies and their children, widows from the Great War or from the train accidents and stuff. She let me move in here because she worried that there should be a man around in case of trouble. It’s why I’ve got this small place. And you’re allowed to live here because she always welcomes children. Do you understand, TJ? This is a woman’s place with a lot of women trying to get by without menfolk. I’m the only man here right now, unless Steve spends the night. She doesn’t question it because she likes Steve, he’s so polite and helpful.”

“I repainted all the signs on her doors,” Steve shrugged slightly with a soft chuckle.

Nodding, Bucky added, “and he helps with stocking the store from the truck if he can. So, TJ, you just follow the rules and she’ll let us stay, okay? I know you’ll be a big help to her. She’s always looking for clever people to help mind the more active children, get them settled playing. She gives a dollar a week, too, if you do that.”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do, Buck,” TJ insisted with a nod, “I’m not like I was before. I promise I won’t attack no one.”

Laughing, Bucky said, “well, if you’re watching those babies and someone comes near them to attack, you better well attack back! That’s why she’s agreed to house you. I told her about Mr. Harver and she thinks you were justified in protecting us in advance, since he’d already attacked twice.” Bucky touched foreheads, “so, you just go on and be protective of the kids around here and all these widows, okay? Mrs. O’Reilly will love you for it.”

“But . . . Momma and Papa said it was bad what I did to Mr. Harver, that I’m not supposed to hit no one with my crutches or my brace . . .” TJ lifted his right foot a bit, the entire leg, including the foot now, supported by the metal and leather brace.

Bucky nodded, “but, TJ, that was when you were a little kid and couldn’t understand the difference. Now, you’re grown to ten and can understand. If someone threatens you or someone else, you can hit them to get away. Not to keep hitting, but enough to stop them so you and the others can escape. Then you go get help. It’s called _self defense_ and any court in the land lets you do that. Understand?”

“I guess . . .” TJ frowned softly, thinking everything over, “is that man still hurtin’ kids?”

SIghing, Bucky said, “probably. He still lives around at the other place and no one sent him to jail yet. And we’re not allowed to go near that building, so we can’t stop what he does there.” He hugged his brother. “I hate that he’s free to hurt kids, but I’m glad you and the girls, and me, are safe.”

“I won’t go near that place, Buck, promise,” TJ nodded and offered Bucky another smile.

“Hey, fellas, not to rush the homecoming or anything, but we should go get Luna’s license and collar, that way we can be home and relax,” Steve met Bucky’s eyes, knowing how uncomfortable Bucky must be with being forced to be bound for two days straight on the train ride back.

Nodding, Bucky straightened. “TJ, we’re going to show you how to get a dog licensed in Brooklyn so you can do it next year. Luna has to get a new license every year.” He pulled out the fee from his wallet and tucked it in TJ’s pocket. “That’s for the collar and registration. They’ll give you the collar of your choice for the right price. They have some nice ones there. Otherwise, we need to go to a dog store to get them. But I think the veterinarian's a better judge of collars.”

TJ nodded, giving Bucky a smile, “let’s go get Luna all settled.”

Bucky led the way out the door and down the block.

**************

March 9, 1935:

Bucky smiled as he worked meticulously on setting the type for the article on a new dam being built. He occasionally reached down to stroke Luna’s silky ears, playing over his leather collar, dyed a bright blue because Bucky hadn’t minded spending a little extra for what TJ had wanted. Soon, it would be lunch time and Bucky would be able to walk across the street to his home to enjoy lunch with Steve and TJ before they had to go back to school and he, work.

The sound of the little bell above the door chimed followed by a gasp and an, “oh, my gosh!” from the newspaper secretary, Vivian James. The woman shot up from her chair, calling, “someone call the authorities!”

Looking up in a jolt, Bucky rose to his feet, instinctively running out of the smaller room to protect the young woman. Instead, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped, and the brunet skidded to the floor on his knees, gripping the shoulders of his younger brother, horrified at the sight of blood in and on his mouth and chin and the disheveled clothing. “Teej! Baby, what happened? How bad it is? You get punched?” He tried to ease TJ’s mouth open to count teeth.

Shaking his head, the younger boy let Bucky open his mouth, the older boy seeing something in the ten year old’s mouth. TJ’s teeth were covered in blood as well.

Carefully scooping out the object from TJ’s mouth, fearing he’d bit his own tongue off, Bucky examined the small bit of flesh. He looked back inside his brother’s mouth, but found it intact and relatively unscathed. “Teej? What happened, baby?” he asked again.

“M - - Mr. H - - Harver,” TJ whimpered softly, his body trembling.

Pulling his brother into a tight hug, Bucky lifted him, crutches and all, and turned to Miss James. “Call the police. My brother’s been attacked,” he said, voice going low, cold, and withdrawn.

Nodding, Vivian hurried behind her desk to pick up the phone, “where are you going, Bucky?” She asked as the operator connected her to the police.

“Going? The manager’s office so I have a witness.” He carried the boy to the small manager’s office, sitting TJ directly on the desk, but not on any copy or articles. “Damon, my brother’s been attacked. This . . .” he handed off the flesh, “was in his mouth from the man who did it.”

As the newspaper man began hurriedly checking over the small boy, Damon Jabowitz cooed softly, “can you speak, honey? Tell me what the man looked like?”

“Mr. H - - Harver . . .” TJ repeated softly, eyes glazed over, the blood staining his chin and mouth standing out against his pale skin.

“George Harver the apartment owner down three blocks?” Damon looked up at Bucky, green eyes confused, blondish-red hair disarrayed from when he’d been tangling his fingers through it while editing copy.

“No,” Bucky growled low, “ _Keith_ Harver. He’s attacked little kids all along that block for years. Even attacked . . . older ones,” Bucky droned out, sounding deadly calm and cold. “We’re not to go near that apartment because of what he’s done - - TJ attacked him to defend us before, but the law sided with _him_.”

Shaking his head, Damon looked at TJ and asked, softly, “just your mouth, honey? He hurt you anywhere else? Touch you in places he shouldn’t?”

Eyes falling to the floor, TJ nodded, wrapping his arms around himself, the crutches tumbling to the floor of the office. “F - - fingers . . . said I was t - - too small so . . . so he made me . . . get on my knees on the ground . . . I bit it off . . .”

“Good boy,” Damon praised, placing the flesh on his desk on a piece of clean paper. “He won’t do that twice. Good brave boy.” Damon lifted his eyes and said, “now, Jimmy, you aren’t going after that man. Vivian’s calling the police, so you stay right here with your brother. Don’t need the law siding with him again because you try to kill him.”

Luna whimpered and scratched at the door, jumping up to look into the window of the office. Bucky turned and opened the door but moved the paper with the piece of penile flesh up out of the dog’s easy reach. Luna bolted right in and straight to TJ, resting his large head on TJ’s thigh.

“Luna, don’t lick,” Bucky ordered firmly. “I want the police to see what happened to my brother. Mr. Harver’s going away for a very long time, the perverted asshole!”

A cop hurried in and looked stunned at the sight of a crippled child he actually remembered.

“Didn’t . . . didn’t hit him with my crutches . . .” TJ informed the officer with wide eyes, recognizing the cop from years before.

“What happened?” The officer asked Bucky, eyes wide.

Looking directly at the cop, Bucky offered the paper with it’s disgusting bit of flesh. “Mr. Keith Harver attacked my little brother. He used his fingers on TJ then TJ’s mouth for unnatural acts _with a child_ , as we’ve warned he does. TJ bit in self-defense.” Meeting the cop’s eyes, Bucky said, “I’m sure that flesh will fit perfectly back in place and prove my brother’s not violent, just self-protective?”

Taking the piece of flesh, looking over at TJ again and then back at Bucky, the officer frowned severely, “I’ll make sure the man is brought in . . . if he’s not already at a hospital . . .”

“He will be,” Damon added. “Any sane - - or semi-sane man would.” He turned back to TJ and carefully stroked the boy’s hair. “Honey, where were you when he did this? At school?”

TJ shook his head, some bruising beginning to develop near his hairline from where the man had gripped painfully. “Was . . . was comin’ home for lunch. Stevie had to stay behind . . . Mr. Harver pulled me into the alley between my apartment and the market . . .”

Damon’s eyes widened and he turned to look at Bucky, “Wait, you live across the way over the pharmacy. That’s where all the widows and children live! If this man’s over there, he might hurt more kids.”

Bucky ran out the door, “come Luna!”

Luna barked and bolted out after Bucky.

Fortunately, Mr. Harver had indeed sought medical help instead of trying to molest more children. Within ten minutes, Bucky returned and cuddled his brother close once more, the coldness gone from his eyes and tone as he said, “Mrs. O’Reilly’s got the police over there and over at the school.”

“Can we go home now, Buck?” TJ asked softly.

Looking at the police officer, Bucky asked, “may I take him home and clean him up, Sir?”

Sighing, the officer nodded and said, “yes. I got his statement and the . . . evidence,” the officer looked down at the flesh in wax paper his hand. “Go take care of him.”

“Oh, Sir, we’re pressing charges if the city won’t. That man _will_ be going away for a long time.” Bucky picked up his brother and let Damon hand over the crutches. “You know, I know it’s not your fault, sir, but this place needs laws to protect children from beasts like that.”

“I agree with you, Mr. Barnes,” the officer nodded with a sigh. He looked at TJ in Bucky’s arms, taking in the dishielved little boy with drying blood all over his chin, mouth, and shirt.

“Thank you, Sir. Now, if you need more testimony or evidence, this is my place of employment and I live above the pharmacy across the street. I’m taking my brother home.” He nodded to his boss, who didn’t protest at all. Bucky said, “Luna, heel,” and left the newspaper offices. Once across at the apartment building, Bucky nodded to Mrs. O’Reilly and reassured her that TJ was okay and just needed to clean up and rinse his mouth. Bucky went to their small apartment and carried TJ in, letting Luna trail behind. He carried his brother directly into the tiny bathroom and settled him in the hip bath left over from the last century. Bucky knelt down beside the bathing tub and stroked TJ’s curls. “Toothbrush and powder first?”

Looking over at Bucky with wide eyes, some of the blood beginning to dry and flake off, TJ whimpered and said, “is he gonna come back and rip my . . .” TJ looked down at his crotch, “I don’t want ‘im to come back . . .”

“The police arrested him, TJ. And they have the proof that he did adult things with you, a little child. He’s going to be put in jail where the other prisoners will probably hurt him for hurting children.” Bucky touched foreheads and stroked TJ’s cheek. “Wanna clean the blood from your mouth? Must taste gross, huh?”

Sniffling, TJ nodded, crinkling his nose up in disgust, “he tasted gross . . . and he stunk, too, like he didn’t know how to take a shower . . .”

“Probably didn’t,” Bucky got up and turned on the water tap at the sink. The tub wasn’t connected and had to be filled to use. He got a glass of water and brought it and the toothbrush and tooth powder to TJ. “You clean up your teeth and stuff and I’ll go warm water. I’m going to make sure the door’s locked and no one’s in the apartment. Keep Luna here, Teej.” He stroked TJ’s curls then went to the bathroom door, “Luna, come. Protect TJ.”

Luna bounded over, his nails clicking on the hard floor as he moved from the living room to the bathroom. Once inside the small bathroom with the boy, Luna lay down, putting his large head on his front paws, eyes watching the door intently, ears high and alert.

Nodding, Bucky said, “good boy.” He walked out, shutting the bathroom door firmly. After Bucky had reassured himself that the apartment was empty, he locked the door and made sure the bedroom window was shut and the lock clasped. He walked over to the telephone and called the high school, putting water on to heat on the stove. Once someone answered he said, calmly, “I need to speak to Steve Rogers, a junior, please. It’s a family emergency.”

It took a few minutes but finally Steve’s voice called into the phone, “hello?” The blond sounded worried.

Without saying who he was, Bucky said, “Harver attacked Teej, Stevie. Come home?”

“Wait, what?” Steve sounded stunned, “is he okay?”

“Please don’t make me describe it over the phone? TJ’s brushing his teeth and getting the blood out of his mouth. Please? Come home?”

“Geez, okay, yeah, I’ll be home,” Steve agreed, sounding worried; the line disconnected.

Bucky hung up and called his mother, knowing it would only be harder the longer he waited. He waited for the operator to patch him through to Shelbyville, Indiana.

“Hello?” Winnie’s voice picked up after only a few rings.

“Momma? It’s Bucky,” the tall brunet said softly, sounding exhausted and upset.

“Bucky? What’s wrong? You sound upset?” Winnie’s tone instantly sounded worried.

“TJ was outside the apartment around lunch, Momma, and Mr. Harver saw him. He attacked TJ. The police have Mr. Harver in jail now and we have evidence. We’re pushing for full punishment. TJ’s in the bathroom cleaning up.” Bucky sighed and softly said, “I thought I should tell you now instead of wait, since you’re his Momma and have a right to know.”

“Mr. Harver . . . Bucky . . . is he . . . how badly is he hurt?” Winnie asked, voice trembling.

“From what I understand, Momma, HArver used his fingers and got angry at how tiny TJ is, so made TJ use his mouth. TJ bit him and ran to the newspaper office across the street, because that’s where I work, across the street from the apartment.” Bucky wrapped his hand around the wooden casing of the phone, leaning against the wall as he spoke.

“He made him . . .” Winnie sounded angry and shocked, “is there medicine they can give him . . . make sure he doesn’t get any diseases from that man?”

“Steve’s coming and we’ll get Teej to Sarah as soon as he gets here, Momma. I have Teej cleaning up good with hot water as we talk. I’m gonna go make sure he’s clean everywhere.” Bucky drew in a breath and said, “it’s the same detective as before and he’s mad at Harver. He’s gonna help us get him locked up good.”

“Good,” Winnie said, letting out a breath, “call me with regular updates?”

“Yes, Momma, of course.” Bucky hesitated then asked, “want TJ to talk to you later, after we check him over?”

“Yes, I want you to get him cleaned up first, Bucky, check him for tears, okay?” Winnie sounded extremely worried and like she wished she could be there to check on her little boy.

Nodding, though his mother wouldn’t see, Bucky said, “yes, Momma. I’ll make sure he’s clean and healthy.” He paused and turned his head, “Momma, gotta go get the door. I locked it and it might be Steve.”

“Of course, call me when TJ is done with Sarah? Let me know how he’s doing?” Winnie asked.

“Yes, Momma,” Bucky said. He added, “I love you and miss you all. So does TJ.” Bucky hung up and went to check the door, calling through the barrier, “who is it, please?”

“It’s Stevie,” Steve called through the door.

Bucky instantly unlocked the door, opened it, grabbed Steve by the shirt, and dragged his lover inside. He shut the door and locked it then hugged Steve tight, beginning to tremble.

“How bad is he?” Steve asked softly, breath warm against Bucky’s neck.

“Harver used his fingers in him and got mad because TJ’s so tiny. So he made TJ kneel and use his mouth on that dirty dick of his. TJ bit him and got away.” Bucky lifted his face. “The cops are doing something at last, they got the flesh to prove it.”

“The flesh?” Steve asked softly.

“Yeah, TJ took a chunk out of that dirty asshole’s dick,” Bucky sounded vindictive.

“That bastard, attackin’ a kid! I hope they show ‘im a thing or two in jail,” Steve growled softly, blue eyes narrowing in anger.

“TJ’s in the bathroom getting his mouth clean. Help me carry the water to him for his bath?” Bucky turned towards the small kitchen area. “I want to get him cleaned up then to your mother to make sure he’s not gonna catch anything from that bastard.”

“Good idea,” Steve nodded, walking over to grab the pot of warmed water, using cloths to grab the handles so he didn’t burn his hands.

Bucky led the way, carrying a second pot, and managed to get the door open. “Steve’s here, baby. After you’re clean we’ll talk to Sarah and see that you’re still clean and healthy. How’s the blood thing?” Bucky walked over and began pouring water into the tub.

Looking up at the two older boys, TJ’s chin appeared still covered in drying blood, but it looked like his mouth was mostly cleaned. “I - - I can still . . . still taste it . . .” he said softly.

Nodding, Bucky sank down and grabbed a washcloth. He began washing the blood from TJ’s face, “open your mouth, baby.”

TJ obeyed, opening his mouth to let his brother examine the inside of his mouth. Bucky looked inside then washed TJ’s mouth out with the soapy cloth, having him rinse several times with cold water from the glass he asked Steve to keep refilling. Finally, he said, “I know that was nasty, but did it help, baby?”

Sniffling, TJ nodded, his eyes falling to the floor, wrapping his arms around his chest, “I - - I thought he was gonna kill me . . .”

Bucky stroked TJ’s curls and whispered, “I’m glad he didn’t. I’d have thought the same thing, baby.”

“You promise he ain’t gonna come back, Buck?” TJ asked softly, his voice trembling.

“I promise he’s gonna be locked up as long as we can get, TJ, and that I’ll demand to be told if he ever gets out.” Bucky stroked TJ’s cheek and lifted his chin. “But I won’t lie and promise never, sweetheart. I won’t lie to you.”

“It - - it hurt when he put his fingers down there, Buck . . . I know why you cried when he did it when you were smaller, Buck . . .” TJ whimpered.

Nodding, Bucky wrapped his arms around TJ and hugged, “Never should do that with a child, Teej. That man deserves to be bit over and over for that.”

“I thought he was gonna put . . . put his . . . ya know . . .” TJ flushed bright red.

“He was, baby,” Bucky agreed solemnly. “That’s why he was so mad at how small you are. He wanted to do that to you instead.” Bucky stroked TJ’s hair. “But, I can promise you, TJ, that you never have to do that with anyone unless you want to, when you’re all grown up, okay? That’s something you and . . . whoever you love should decide. But you’ve got years to think about whether you like dames or gents or even both or no one.”

Bottom lip quivering, TJ looked up at his brother with wide eyes, shimmering with tears, before finally launching himself into his brother’s lap, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck. TJ let out a very sharp sob, his body trembling violently.

Bucky cuddled TJ close and dropped a kiss to his hair. “There’s my good boy, my precious TJ,” he crooned. “Steve,” Bucky said softly as he rocked and cuddled his brother, “can you call your Momma and tell her we need to make sure TJ’s not hurt worse than he thinks?”

“Of course,” Steve nodded, tossing a worried look at TJ before hurrying out to call his mother.

Once alone with his brother, and of course Luna by the door, Bucky lifted TJ’s face and softly said, “you’re a good boy, TJ. I don’t care if that man told you otherwise. You’re my good boy. You understand?”

“H - - he said I - - I was a wh - - whore and th - - that he - - he put my - - my mouth to - - to good use . . .” TJ continued to sob, once started unable to stop.

Nodding, Bucky whispered, “he told me I’d be screaming for him to fill me because I was a whore, too, Teej. But I’m not a whore and neither are you. He’s a dirty lying bastard. He’s not worth being a human.” Bucky cuddled and kissed and whispered reassurances to his baby brother.

TJ clutched desperately to his brother and he said, “I - - I didn’t know wh - - what to do when I - - I bit him . . . I thought he - - he was gonna kill me . . .”

“But you proved to him that you’d learned to run real fast,” Bucky sounded proud. “And you did the right thing. Biting him, getting away, coming to me. You did everything right, Teej baby. I’m so very proud of you. I love you so much.” Bucky stroked TJ’s hair and smiled into his face, pride shining behind the worry.

Nodding, TJ dropped his head on Bucky’s shoulder, his body still trembling.

Steve came back into the room, leading his mother into the small bathroom.

Glancing up, Bucky said, “did Steve tell you what I told him, Ma’am? About what happened to my TJ?”

Nodding, the nurse walked over and said, softly, gently, “TJ? Will you let me check you over, dear?”

Sniffling, TJ pulled his head from Bucky’s shoulder, wiping at his eyes and nodded, putting on his brave face again. “Yes, Mrs. Rogers . . .”

Smiling gently, Sarah said, “will you let me see where he touched you, TJ? So I can make sure you’re not torn up?”

“H - - he touched my butt, Ma’am,” TJ flushed bright red, his fingers scratching at his arms anxiously.

Nodding, studying the boy’s face, Sarah said, “do you know, I’ve seen over a thousand butts in my job? I’ll bet your butt will look just like everyone else’s, won’t it?”

Scratching at his arms still, TJ nodded and looked at Bucky, eyes worried, “is - - is it ‘kay if I show her?”

Bucky met his brother’s eyes and said, quite seriously, “that’s up to you, TJ. It’s _your_ butt. If you don’t want people seeing it, you tell them no.”

TJ nodded and unbuttoned his bloodied shirt, pulling it off his shoulders, revealing handprint shaped bruises on his biceps from where Mr. Harvey had been gripping him so hard. Next, he unbuttoned his trousers and tried to ease them off his hips but he struggled with pulling them off without falling over.

Sarah reached over to help, as did Bucky, both adults steadying the small ten year old. “There’s my brave boy,” Bucky murmured with pride and love.

Flushing brighter, TJ untied his underwear and let them fall down his legs, the fabric catching on his twisted leg.

Sarah turned TJ around carefully and said, “I’m going to open your butt cheeks and look inside. Then I’m going to touch you with one finger but not push it inside. Is that okay, TJ?”

Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, TJ nodded, a shudder working it’s way down his spine. “O - - okay . . .” TJ murmured shakily.

Sarah carefully bent the child over and looked at his rectum to make sure it wasn’t torn or bleeding. She then placed a gentle finger across the opening to feel for bleeding or fever. Taking her hand away, she pulled TJ’s pants up and began tying the drawers. “You are indeed a very brave boy, TJ. Thank you for your trust. I see no tears and feel nothing bad. I think he didn’t hurt you worse than you already thought.”

“And . . . Mama, is there something you can give him or anything that might keep away infection or something?” Steve asked, worried for Bucky’s younger brother.

Smiling, Sarah pulled out a bottle from her pocket. “Of course. This is some medicine we use on sailors who have, voluntarily, had intercourse and gotten diseases. I don’t see why it shouldn’t work for a boy who _involuntarily_ had to deal with something similar.” She asked TJ, “would you like to put it on yourself or have me show you how? You will rub it across, not inside, your butt opening. It won’t hurt, but it will feel cold.”

“Can . . . can Bucky help me?” TJ asked softly, still nude aside from the drawers Sarah had tied onto him.

Nodding, Sarah handed the medicine bottle to Bucky. “Now may I see your mouth? I want to be sure he didn’t chip a tooth or anything.” She smiled gently as she settled the boy carefully on Bucky’s lap once more.

Scrunching his nose, TJ murmured, “it hurt . . . he hit way back . . .” TJ pointed to the back of his mouth.

The nurse nodded, frowning, her eyes serious. “May I see?”

Sniffling softly, TJ nodded and opened his mouth so Sarah could look inside. She carefully tilted his head so she could use the light to see, frowning more as she saw minute tears along TJ’s inner mouth walls, the chipped tooth from the man’s brutal attack. She stroked his cheek and said, “thank you, TJ.”

“Am . . . am I okay?” TJ asked softly, laying his head back down on Bucky’s shoulder.

Honestly, Sarah answered, “well, you have some small tears inside your mouth, but you probably already could feel them. Also, a tooth chipped, but I think it’s a baby tooth so we’ll keep an eye on it.” She reached up and stroked his curls. “I understand this is the same stupid man who you disciplined with your crutch.”

“I - - I didn’t hit ‘im with the crutch, I promise,” TJ said, curling up on Bucky’s lap enough so he hid most of his privates from Sarah and Steve.

“Way back when you were little? You didn’t hit this man? Hmmm . . . and I thought you gave him what for and he was too stupid to learn.” Sarah picked up a towel and laid it over TJ’s lap without looking.

“I - - I hit ‘im then but I didn’t hit ‘im this time,” TJ replied, thankful for the towel.

“Ah, well,” Sarah sighed “missed opportunity. If I was you, I’d have wiped him across the floor without blinking twice. A man like that deserves death.” She stroked TJ’s curls again.

“But - - I made us move ‘cause I hit ‘im with my crutch . . . moved Bucky ‘way from Steve . . .” TJ replied quietly.

Sarah tilted her head, “did you? And while you were all away, did you learn a few things? Did you learn to run and walk and think better so you knew when to hit and when not to?”

“I . . . I guess? I can run pretty good now and I bit him even though it was real gross,” TJ scrunched up his nose.

“Good for you. Now if women who are being molested could learn that trick, there’d be a few less molesters walking the streets.” Sarah rose to her feet and moved to the sink to wash her hands. “You be careful eating anything really hot or cold for a few days, okay, TJ?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” TJ nodded, his eyes drooping shut, the exhaustion hitting him after such a hard day, despite still being soaked and soapy.

Bucky stroked TJ’s curls and softly asked, “will he be okay, ma’am?”

Sarah nodded. “Give him opportunity to talk if he wants, but don’t force it unless he seems to be withdrawing or getting depressed or angry. I don’t believe he’ll have any physical troubles once his mouth heals.” She showed the medicine bottle to Bucky and explained how to apply the contents so he could help TJ when the boy awoke. The nurse walked into the other room and smiled at her son as she slipped into her coat. “Are you coming home tonight?”

“I was going to, Mama, I promise, but with what happened with TJ . . . I think I should stay here in case Bucky needs any help?” Steve looked up at his mother, offering her a very small smile. “Haven’t rented my room out or nothin’, right?” Steve spent the majority of his nights with Bucky, now that his lover had his own apartment, and luckily Sarah didn’t seem to mind.

Chuckling, slipping her headscarf on over her hair and ears, Sarah shook her head. “I was considering it. I feel as if you live here most the time as it is. Are you sure you’re not just wanting to move in here and I can let your room?” She turned to hug her son.

“Do you need the rent money, Mama?” Steve asked, wrapping his arms around his mother and giving her a hug. “Though, I wouldn’t want ya rentin’ out to just anyone.”

“I was teasing, Steve,” Sarah laughed. “I have no intention of renting your room nor do I need the funds. You enjoy your time with Bucky and TJ, but remember, that boy is fragile right now. Keep him close. I shouldn’t wonder if he has nightmares for awhile.”

Nodding, looking serious once more, Steve said, “of course, Mama. We’ll take good care of him. Bucky will most likely be doting over him for the next few weeks. You know how Bucky can get.”

Nodding, Sarah kissed Steve’s cheek, caressing his face briefly. “My son . . . you help them. Call if you need me.” Sarah tied the scarf under her chin and turned for the door. “And make sure the pair of them eat. They’re far too skinny. You’d think they had your health problems.”

Steve agreed with a nod, frowning softly in worry, “I know . . . Bucky’s developed some more and but hasn’t put on any weight to go with it and TJ looks like an eight year old rather than ten. You think something could be makin’ them ill, Mama?”

Shaking her head, Sarah looked at her son, “grief, Steve. First TJ lost his Bucky then the pair lost their father. It’ll take time to heal. At least back here with Bucky, TJ will gain some of his weight back. That pair’s always been closer than the child with his parents.”

“Yeah, you’d think Bucky is TJ’s Papa with how much TJ looks up to and respects him,” Steve nodded in agreement, running his unusually large hands through his blond hair, ruffling it up.

“Bucky’s developed more in the hips and chest,” Sarah sighed, looking towards the couch where Bucky had lain TJ. “Is he having problems hiding his feminine side?”

“Mama, he binds his chest so tight that it hurts him everytime he leaves the apartment,” Steve kept his voice low, “I’ve managed to convince him to unbind at home, though.”

Nodding, Sarah sighed, “it’s a shame there are no sure ways to correct his extra body parts. I don’t trust the surgeons to fix it.”

“Yeah, I don’t want surgeons hacking him up and making a bad situation worse. I don’t mind them, really, but I understand why Bucky can’t let them show in public and how they make him feel. He’s a man but with some womanly parts . . . he’s very self conscious about it,” Steve glanced over at the brothers, Bucky making sure TJ was taken care of, before moving his eyes back to his mother.

Sarah sighed and patted Steve’s cheek. “Take care of those boys, Steve. Both are so special and need someone who loves them. I’m going home before full dark sets in. If you need me, the telephone is certainly loud enough.”

“Yes, Mama,” Steve leaned up to kiss his mother’s cheek before walking her to the door of the apartment, “I’ll see ya tomorrow. I promise I’ll be home.”

“Of course,” Sarah chuckled. She left the apartment, turned and waved, then headed down the hall and out.

Bucky finished tucking in TJ and walked over to Steve with a sigh. “He’s sleeping peacefully for now.”

“Mama said that he’ll most likely have nightmares for awhile,” Steve said, reaching out to stroke his fingers over Bucky’s. “How are you doing?” The small blond’s bright blue eyes shone with worry as he looked up at his lover.

“Feel like _I’m_ going to have nightmares for a while.” Bucky hugged himself and shuddered. “Sometimes I still feel his fat fingers . . .”

“Awe, Buck,” Steve sighed, wrapping his arms around Bucky, holding him tightly, “it’s okay. That monster will be sent to jail after they get his penis stitched up.”

“They should revoke his rights to a penis,” Bucky growled low, leaning into Steve but with his arms still around himself. “He has no rights to claim humanity, either.”

“He’ll most likely be dead within a few weeks anyways, after those guys on the inside find out what he did,” Steve said softly, not knowing how much comfort that would bring Bucky, but Steve felt like it needed to be said.

Nodding, Bucky turned his face to bury it in Steve’s neck, “good. That means he won’t ever get near TJ or another kid again.” Turning in Steve’s arms, finally letting go of himself, Bucky sighed. “I’m soapy and soaked . . .”

“Want to go change, get comfy?” Steve asked, using their little codeword for _unbind_ , “and I can make us some late lunch?”

Nodding, Bucky pulled away from Steve and headed for his bedroom, leaving the door partially open. He had no worries if TJ woke and saw him; he and TJ had often bathed together, once TJ knew about Bucky’s secret. Inside the room, Bucky slid out of his clothes and unbound his chest with a soft groan. Deep welts appeared where the tight bindings had pressed into his flesh.

Steve, hearing the groan, followed Bucky into the bedroom and gasped softly at the sight of the welts. Reaching out with one hand, Steve began to gently massage the tender flesh, “are you sure you ain’t binding it too tight, Buck?” Steve asked worriedly.

Whimpering very softly, Bucky said, “have to. They’re big enough to see, Steve, unless I bind them tight. Maybe I need to do more exercise or something? Eat less? Might take the weight of my hips . . .”

“Eat _less_?” Steve’s eyes snapped up to look at Bucky’s face, frowning fiercely, “you and TJ are already too skinny as it is, Buck. You need to eat _more_.”

Bucky frowned down at Steve. “If I eat more, I put on more hip and chest, Steve.”

“But, you’re starvin’ yourself, Buck,” Steve breathed out, lifting his other hand to start massaging Bucky’s other breast; not sexually, Steve just wanted to make Bucky more comfortable. “I don’t think not eatin’ is the way to go, Buck . . . maybe we should ask Mama?”

Bucky nodding, closing his eyes. “Sure beats being hungry all the time. If she can think of something short of having some two bit doctor hack me up.”

“None of us want that,” Steve agreed with a nod, leaning forward to drop kisses on each of Bucky’s breasts before leaning up to kiss Bucky’s lips. “Get changed and I’ll make some lunch.”

Softly mewling at the stimulation and pleasure Steve brought, Bucky lifted a hand to run through his lover’s blond hair. “What you do to me, doll,” he whispered.

Steve grinned brightly and kissed Bucky’s lips once more, “change,” he gently ordered, giving Bucky’s ass a light slap with the order.

Smiling at Steve, Bucky leaned over and captured his lips. Teasing, he said, “Aye, aye, Captain.” Shooting off a lazy salute, Bucky stripped the rest of the way down, exposing his entire body to his lover. “What should I wear, doll?” he asked, smiling.

“Your comfiest pair of pants and your large shirt,” Steve grinned at his lover, letting his eyes hungrily take in the sight of Bucky’s beautiful body. “We’re stayin’ in tonight. Jus’ you, me, and Teej.”

“Really? No plans to promenade around the square or take in an opera?” Bucky teased lightly. He turned to his trunk and pulled out a loose pair of sleep pants and a large shirt he’d gotten from his father. Bending, Bucky began putting the trousers on.

“I love you, Buck, you know that, right?” Steve smiled brightly, unable to take his eyes off Bucky, mesmerized by the young man’s beauty.

Glancing over, Bucky smiled widely. “I love you, too, Stevie. Have forever.” He stood and tied off the pants, reaching for the shirt, his breasts jiggling very slightly with the movement.

“And, I think you’re the most gorgeous guy,” Steve purred, licking his lips as if he fought to keep himself from rushing over to Bucky and tearing off the clothes he’d just put on.

Slipping the shirt over his head, leaving it loose with the buttons at the neck undone, Bucky stepped over to Steve and stroked his cheek. “ _You_ are beautiful, my love.”

“And, you are, too,” Steve insisted softly, “every single part of you is beautiful because they’re a part of you.”

Rolling his eyes at that, Bucky said, “I can name a few things I don’t need attached.” He smoothed the shirt over his stomach, frowning and doing so again. Bucky’s frown increased and he pulled his shirt up to glare at his very slightly rounded belly. “Told ya, Stevie . . .” Bucky sighed, putting a hand on the softness of a woman’s abdomen, “fat.”

“What? ‘Cause you have skin? Buck, Mama told me that both you and TJ need to put on some weight. It’s not healthy,” Steve reached out, cupping one of Bucky’s cheeks in his palm, “I’m worried about you, Buck. You keep on not eatin’ then you’re gonna really hurt yourself . . . what if somethin’ happened to you?”

Blinking, Bucky looked thoughtful, studying Steve. “You’re _that_ upset about this?” He shook his head and softly added, “but I don’t want people to see me as a woman, Stevie.”

“They won’t, Buck, you’re still a man. You’ll always be a man,” Steve insisted, “we’ll figure everything out, okay? You an’ me, together, we can do anything.”

The brunet suddenly slid his arms around his blond lover and hugged him close. Whispering, Bucky said, “I’m scared. Sometimes I catch men looking at me with this kind of smirk on their faces . . .”

“I know you’re scared,” Steve sighed, hugging Bucky tightly, “but, we’ll figure out what can be done to help you without starving yourself, binding yourself down so tight I think you’re gonna break a rib, or lettin’ some doctor hack you up. We’ll figure out a way for you to be the _man_ that I see you as, the _man_ that you are.”

Nodding, Bucky leaned his forehead against Steve’s narrow chest. “Thanks, Steve. I know you love me no matter what, but I _feel_ . . . wrong - - unloveable . . .”

“I know . . . and I want nothing more than to change that,” Steve sighed softly, dropping a kiss to Bucky’s temple, “let me talk to Mama tomorrow and see if she has any suggestions, okay?”

“I know what I need,” Bucky grumbled softly. “I need some of whatever makes a man more manly and less of whatever makes a gal more girly.” He turned away from Steve and caressed one hand very lightly over the counter of the sink. “Would your Momma know how to get that stuff?”

“Maybe? I don’t know, Buck, but I’ll definitely ask, okay? I promise,” Steve nodded, offering Bucky a reassuring smile.

Bucky pulled Steve into a cuddle and kissed his neck, curving his back so he was low enough to reach comfortably. “Steve . . . you are the most amazing guy ever. I love you so much!”

“I say we tie for most amazing guy,” Steve grinned at his lover, “and I love you, too, always have and always will, Buck, no matter what.”

Smiling softly, Bucky kissed Steve’s plush lips. “Hey, Stevie. Think we got time for a little lovin’ before Teej wakes up?”

“Bucky, I want you to eat,” Steve said, raising a single brow at his lover. “Don’t think I’m lettin’ you outta eating.”

The brunet sighed and shook his head, “eat? But it’ll go straight . . .” he shut up and turned to the kitchen area of the small apartment. Frowning, Bucky opened the door of the ice box and took out some leftovers. He continued to frown and carried them over to the stove, turning on the burner and pausing a moment before lighting the gas. Bucky pulled over a pan to make sure his food evenly heated. “Want to join me for stew?” Bucky asked, sounding resigned.

“I’d love stew, thanks, Buck,” Steve said, watching Bucky worriedly, “Bucky . . . you’re not fat.”

Blinking and straightening, the taller man turned to the slimmer and said, “what?”

“You’re not fat,” Steve said again, bluntly, “I’d let you know if you were gettin’ out of shape. You know I would.”

“Hips and breasts . . . stomach. Even my butt.” Bucky shook his head, “I look too much like a girl. I’d start growing a beard, but if I’m challenged about my clothes or something, I can’t exactly prove I’m not a girl in boy’s clothes, can I?” Bucky watched the stew heating and added, softly, “but I _am_ hungry all the time.”

“Because you’re not eatin’, Buck. Let me talk with Mama and see what she says?” Steve met his lover’s eyes, “but, starvin’ yourself isn’t the answer to any of this. You are hurting yourself.”

With a nod, Bucky turned to put stew in two bowls. “I can’t help what I see in the mirror, doll. I look at myself and wonder why I don’t just give up and put on a damned dress. Then I cringe at the idea.”

Sighing softly, Steve reached out to stroke Bucky’s forearm, “I’m not sayin’ to put on a dress. You’re a _man_ , Buck, but there’s gotta be another way . . . rather than starving’ yourself.”

Sighing, Bucky buried his face in Steve’s shoulder. “A way to shave off the wider hips and the breasts and stop the cycles?” The brunet shook his head and whispered, “I ache for you, doll. Wanna be . . . Look good for you. Sometimes I even want kids, but . . . I’m a _man_. I . . . I’ll talk to your Momma . . . I promise. I’ll eat.” Bucky softly kissed Steve’s delicate seeming neck.

Smiling, Steve stroked down Bucky’s back and said, softly, “I love you, Buck.”

Lifting his face, Bucky stared right into his lover’s eyes. Cupping Steve’s face, Bucky breathed, “I love you with my entire being, Stevie.” He crashed his lips to Steve’s.


	9. Trying to Find the Harmony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Intersex, Illness, Reference to abuse, Era-typical Homophobia, Eating Disorder**

April 20, 1935: 

Damon walked over to the door of the small typesetter’s room and knocked on the door frame, looking through the open doorway. “Bucky? The school’s on the phone for you. Said TJ’s not hurt, but he, the teacher, needs you right now. He actually said that it’s imperative you rush, so, take the rest of the day. Good job, Buck.” The editor-manager picked up the tray carefully set with the backwards metal letters of the article Bucky had been setting up for print.

Worried, despite the teacher’s message that TJ wasn’t hurt; when a teacher said _rush_ , it sounded very important. “Thank you, Damon,” Bucky said, standing and grabbing his hat. Many people would think such easy familiarity with a supervisor was out if line, but Damon was actually in his early twenties, and the two had become quick friends during the winter.

Turning, Bucky nodded to Vivian as he passed, putting his hat on and hurrying from the building. Turning, the worried eighteen year old hurried the two blocks to the primary school his brother attended. He paused and studied the old familiar building and play yard. He shook off old school memories and walked inside.

Once he got to the school building, he could see a middle aged man with red hair and wire framed glasses which he pushed up the bridge of his narrow nose. The man, tall and wiry, had almost bird-like features, with narrow, pointed features and sharp brown eyes. When the man pushed up his glasses and looked over, hearing Bucky’s arrival, he smiled and said, “Mr. Barnes, yes? Come, come,” He ushered Bucky through the doors and down the nearly empty halls. Classes had been let out twenty minutes before. “My name is Mr. Conners, Harry Conners. I’m the music teacher here,” the man explained as he walked.

Following Mr. Conners, Bucky took off his hat and asked, “What’s happened to TJ, please, Sir?” _Music teacher_? How did TJ get in trouble with the music teacher?

Looking up at Bucky, the younger man being a few inches taller, Harry shook his head, grinning, “oh, I did leave a message with your employer, saying your ward wasn’t in any trouble, Mr. Barnes, I am sorry if that got lost in translation.” Once they turned a corner, heading down a different hall, Bucky could hear the prettiest melody playing on a piano, the noise soothing and sweet.

“If he’s not in trouble, why is he held behind?” Bucky asked softly, instinctively lowering his voice so he wouldn’t interrupt the music. He’d never heard if a _music_ teacher holding a student for anything but discipline.

Putting a finger to his lips, Harry smiled again as they made it to the only open door in the hall. He gestured for Bucky to look inside the room.

Once Bucky peered into the room, he could see TJ sitting behind the large instrument. The boy’s crutches laying up against the side of the piano as his fingers danced effortlessly across the keys, producing that beautiful, inspiring melody.

Blinking, Bucky looked confused, ‘Huh . . . don’t know how Momma taught him without a piano at home.” The young man turned his head to look at the teacher. “It’s possible she took him to Mrs. Cohn during the day.” Looking back at his brother, Bucky slipped into a soft smile. “It’s very pretty. Who wrote it?”

“No one,” Harry commented softly, sounding awed as he looked at the little boy playing. “From what I can tell, that song was created by him. It’s not a song I’ve ever heard before, Mr. Barnes. Why did you not have him enrolled in my class with a talent like that?”

Straightening, Bucky turned surprised eyes on the teacher. “I didn’t even know he could play. Momma never told me.”

Looking up at Bucky, meeting the younger man’s eyes, Harry frowned softly in confusion, “you are saying that he hasn’t been playing his entire life, Mr. Barnes?”

With a confused shrug, Bucky said, “We'll, it’s possible Momma found a way to teach him but most unlikely she’d keep it from us.” Turning, Bucky called from the doorway, “Hey, baby, when’d you learn to play so well?”

Jumping, TJ’s head snapped in the direction of his brother’s voice. Seeing the music teacher standing next to Bucky, TJ gasped, eyes widening as he attempted to scrabble away from the instrument, “oh! I’m sorry, Sir! Shouldn’t have touched it without permission!” TJ quickly grabbed his crutches and moved away from the piano.

“Boy,” Mr. Conners said, still smiling, “you are allowed to play that instrument at any time, as long as another student isn’t using it first.”

“And,” Bucky jumped in quickly, “you aren’t supposed to be doing some other lesson. It was gorgeous. Did Momma teach you? She used to play back when I was little.”

TJ shook his head, licking his lips, “nah. I’ve never played before today . . . I - - I was walkin’ by and someone was finishin’ up and it sounded pretty . . . so, I wanted to try?”

It was Mr. Conners turn to look shocked, his mouth dropping open slightly, “you have . . . never played before?”

Looking nervous, TJ shook his head, his eyes looking up at his brother, “no?”

Suddenly, Bucky laughed amd swept his brother into a cuddle. “Now we know what good you are!” Meeting TJ’s eyes, Bucky stroked his curls and said, “you, my dear, are a musician.”

“A musician?” TJ blinked, frowning softly.

“He is a savant!” Mr. Conners praised, looking excited to have the chance to teach such a student.

“What’s that?” TJ asked, looking up at his brother.

“A savant is . . . a genius in one field? I believe?” Bucky looked to the teacher.

“Exactly! Exactly!” Harry nodded, looking between the brothers, “you can be one of the greats, my boy! You can train under the masters!”

TJ lowered his voice and whispered into Bucky’s ear, “why is he actin’ so funny?”

Laughing, Bucky ruffled his brother’s curls. “What? Never seen someone excited?”

“Not like that? What did I do? I jus’ made sounds on the piano?” TJ commented, laying his head on Bucky’s shoulder.

Chuckling, Bucky continued to cuddle and pet his brother. “TJ, you know you played music, not just noise.”

Shrugging his shoulders, TJ said, “I just played what was in my head, Buck.” He looked at the piano and then the teacher and then back at Bucky, “am I gonna be in Mr. Conners class now?”

“Most definitely! I will speak to the principal right now to add you in, boy!” Mr. Conners hurried off down the hall.

Bucky nuzzled TJ’s cheek. “Do you even want to learn how to play, baby?”

“I’d be able to play the piano more?” TJ asked, looking up at his brother once more.

“As long as you want, Teej.” Bucky grinned. “You can learn what those pedals do and everything.”

“Okay,” TJ agreed, “I can be in Mr. Conners class, as long as he doesn’t keep smilin’ at me like I did the best thing in the entire world.”

Instantly worried, Bucky asked softly, “does he worry you, baby? Scare you?” He wouldn’t make TJ take a class with someone he couldn’t trust.

“No,” TJ shook his head, “he ain’t like Mr. Harver. He jus’ got excited, I guess. Did I really play that good, Buck?”

“Yeah, Teej, that’s why he got excited. He maybe thinks he can help you get famous.” Bucky stroked TJ’ hair then cheek. “We should tell Momma.”

“I don’t wanna be famous. I jus’ wanna be Teej, your brother,” TJ said softly, “can I play piano without being famous, Buck?” TJ was quiet for a moment before he said, “if you tell Momma, she’ll be mad ‘cause I was at school.”

Nodding, Bucky said, “Okay, we’ll just keep it to ourselves and Steve for now. And,” Bucky nuzzle TJ’s cheek, “you don’t need to be famous, just sweet,” he kissed TJ’s cheek, “cute,” another kiss, “fun,” yet another kiss, “ and my baby brother. I love you, Teej . . . my little songbird.”

Giggling softly, TJ hugged his brother and kissed Bucky’s cheek, whispering, “did ya ‘member to eat today, Buck?” TJ had awake when Steve and Bucky talked the month before, he’d heard Steve telling Bucky that he needed to eat, that Bucky was hurting himself, so, TJ had taken it upon himself to remind his brother to eat.

With a soft sigh, Bucky said. “I had the sandwich you made me, Teej. That good enough?”

“And, you’re gonna eat supper with me, right?” TJ asked, leaning his head on Bucky’s shoulder, “you eat the sandwich, then you eat supper and that’ll be good.”

“You want me to eat _another_ sandwich?” Bucky asked, frowning.

“I eat in the mornin’, then I eat lunch at school, and I eat supper,” TJ stated, pulling his head back to look up at his brother, eyes worried and watching his brother’s face, “that’s one less sandwich than I eat, Buck.”

Bucky frowned, “ I have breakfast.” He blinked at his brother. “Did Steve tell you to keep an eye on me?”

“No, I heard him tell you to eat, ‘cause you’re hurtin’ yourself. Eatin’ is important, Buck!” TJ insisted, looking up at his brother. “So, I’ve been makin’ you sandwiches and countin’ how much you eat. On average, you eat one meal a day, ‘cause you always skip supper, ‘cause you say that your tummy hurts. And you never eat breakfast. Only when Steve’s there,” TJ said, once again proving just how observant he was.

Flushing, Bucky looked away, no longer meeting his brother’s eyes. “I eat more than that . . . I’m sure.”

“Not uh,” TJ shook his head, “I count, Buck. And that’s only assuming that you eat the sandwiches I make you at work. You do eat the sandwiches, right?”

Softly. Bucky sounded worried as he answered, “Yeah. I eat the sandwiches.” He still didn’t look at his brother.

“You _promise_?” TJ said, ducking his head to be able to meet Bucky’s eyes. He put his hand on Bucky’s abdomen, “You hafta be hungry, Buck!”

Nodding, breaking into a sigh, Bucky said, “Yeah, always hungry, actually.” He remained blushing.

TJ carefully lifted his hand, brushing his fingers up Bucky’s shirt to stroke his abdomen, accidentally tucking up Bucky’s shirt in the process. “Why don’t you eat then, Buck?”

Finally he looked down at his little brother. Bucky said, softly, “I _do_ eat, baby, just not a lot, I guess. I want to lose weight.”

“Why?” TJ asked, tilting his head slightly, his hand still on Bucky’s belly, his fingers brushing up against the bandages Bucky used to bind himself.

“So I can get rid of certain bits of .my body without going to a surgeon.” Bucky shook his head and looked around. “Where are your things? We should go home.”

“You can lose body parts from not eating?” TJ blinked, looking surprised. Shrugging his shoulders, TJ said, “I didn’t know that. Think I could lose my leg from not eatin’?” TJ hobbled over to his bag and picked it up.

Blushing bright red, Bucky said, “we can talk about this at home, Teej. Don’t want everyone knowin’ our business.”

Looking at his brother, his pale eyes searching Bucky’s face, TJ nodded slowly and said, “okay, Buck.”

The brunet man saw the boy’s bag and grabbed it. Still carrying his brother, Bucky headed out of the school and back home, failing to see Steve a little behind them. He carried his brother up to their apartment and finally put TJ down as they got inside. The first thing he said was, “you can’t lose a leg by not eating, but you can lose fat.”

“But . . . you ain’t fat. Mr. Williams, the guy that runs the hardware store, is fat, Buck,” TJ commented with a confused frown.

“Who’s fat?” Steve asked, shutting the door behind him, looking at Bucky with worried eyes.

“I told him he can’t lose his leg by not eating, just fat,” Bucky said softly, not meeting the eyes of either Steve or TJ.

“But, you said you wanted to lose _parts_ , Buck,” TJ pointed out, tilting his head again.

Steve frowned and took a step closer to Bucky, “Buck? Are you still not eating?”

Swallowing, Bucky said, very softly, “I’ve been eating. We were talking about sandwiches and I mentioned I wanted to lose some of my body parts I didn’t want but without going to a surgeon. That’s all. I eat every day. Teej makes me sandwiches for lunch.” Bucky hugged himself and shrugged, walking towards the bathroom. “Steve, TJ plays piano. Did Momma ever say? He’s a savant, we think.”

Steve glanced at TJ and then back to Bucky, “no, no one ever said anything about Teej playin’ the piano. That’s . . . great, Buck . . .”

“The music teacher at the school, Mr. Connors, wants him for classes. He’s thrilled. Teej wrote his own music as he was playing. We’ll have to make sure he gets lessons in musical writing, too, so he can keep his songs for later.” BUcky waked into the bathroom, leaving the door of the tiny room open, then slipped out of trousers, shirt, and everything else he wore. His body had terrible swollen welts where he’d bound himself that day.

“Buck! I thought you said you weren’t gonna bind so tight!” Steve gasped, eyes wide as he rushed over to inspect Bucky’s chest.

“Steve,” Bucky said, voice small, “if I eat, I have to bind. I can’t pass as a man without hiding my breasts and using something to make my waist and hips seem pretty flat. I have to go around looking chubby all the time.” Bucky allowed Steve, and inadvertently TJ, to look at his developed body with the welts and swelling, aside from his noticeable breasts and hips.

TJ’s eyes were wide and he stood, frozen, looking at his brother. Bucky hardly ever let him see his body anymore and TJ hadn’t really seen how developed Bucky’s body had become . . . TJ only saw small glimpses at home when Bucky unbound, But Bucky would always make sure to put on a shirt right away. TJ felt tears burn his eyes, sensing all of Bucky’s negative emotions about himself.

“We have to call Mama, she needs to come see this . . .” Steve murmured worriedly.

“I called her last month when we talked about this, Steve. She doesn’t know of any way to lose specific fat areas without surgery or losing it from everywhere at random times.” Bucky turned and his breasts were such a contrast to his penis and testicales. “I hate being both man and woman.”

“But, Bucky, you’re killing yourself! Look at you!” Steve tried to force his lover to see what he was doing to his body, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a cracked rib or somethin’!”

Bucky glanced down at himself, instinctively bringing up a hand to his right side, the side opposite the one he carried TJ on usually.

“You did, didn’t you?” Steve sighed, running his fingers through his hair, “you can’t keep doing this to yourself, Buck. You can’t.”

TJ let out a sudden, sharp sob, the noise cutting through the tense air in the bathroom.

Turning, Bucky dropped his hand and questioned, extremely worried, “Teej? Baby? What happened?” He moved to TJ’s side and eased onto one knee, gripping the little boy’s upper arms and searching the boy’s face and visible body.

“You’re hurtin’ so bad on the inside!” TJ sniffled, trying so hard to keep it together but his bottom lip quivered and his eyes blurred with tears.

“I’m . . .” Bucky glanced over to Steve then TJ. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” He hugged TJ to him, not sure how to reassure his brother.

“I don’t want you to hurt anymore! You’re beautiful, Buck, and I love you!” TJ finally sobbed, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck. Luna came up to the pair and whimpered softly, sitting down and just watching the brothers.

“I only bruised my rib, Teej,” Bucky sighed. “It’ll heal. Maybe I can wear layers or something instead of binding so much . . .”

Shaking his head, TJ pulled back, wiping at his eyes. He brought his hand to Bucky’s chest and put his hand over Bucky’s chest, right over his beating heart, “but, your heart hurts . . .”

“I’m . . . lost and confused and angry and upset,” Bucky admitted. He looked past TJ to Steve. “I’m a man, TJ, but my body is both male and female. It’s scary and confusing and even hurts sometimes. I just want to be normal.” Bucky stroked TJ’s hair, “and I don’t know how to be.”

“No one is normal, Buck,” Steve said softly, “sure, you may be different from me, but so is TJ and anyone else.” Steve sighed and said, “both TJ and I love you, Bucky, and it hurts to see you hurting so bad.” Steve wanted nothing more than to help his lover but there was nothing that could be done to make Bucky _fully_ male.

Bucky slipped his hand over TJ’s, still over his heart. “Teej, I’m sorry I’ve upset you so badly, baby. Sometimes I’m okay and others I get depressed and upset.” Bucky once more looked over at Steve. “I . . . I _am_ trying, Steve, but I look in the mirror and I see these,” he gestured to the breasts. “And I . . . can’t see past them sometimes. I only know that I’ve been this way my entire life, yet it feels _wrong_ \- - like I’m wearing someone else’s skin.” He stroked TJ’s hair.

TJ sniffled before letting his crutches fall to the floor so he could wrap his thin arms around Bucky’s neck, hanging on tightly. It was like the boy could _feel_ Bucky’s pain, the pains of an adult man trapped inside a body which he despised. These were such adult pains that they overwhelmed the normally level headed TJ.

Steve sighed softly and nodded, watching the two brothers, “I know you’re tryin’, Buck. I just wish there was something I could do to help you when you’re suffering so badly.”

Bucky hugged TJ to him and merely nodded, wishing he, too, could figure a way beyond this problem. Softly, he said, “well, everyone’s here . . . why don’t we make dinner? TJ is going to being music classes. Let’s celebrate?”

“An - - and you’ll eat, too?” TJ asked softly, tucking his head under Bucky’s chin.

Flushing, Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I’ll eat.” He met Steve’s eyes. “I always eat when I’m with you guys, don’t I?”

Letting out a breath, Steve nodded slowly and gave Bucky a small smile, though his eyes still remained worried, “yeah, Buck, you do.”

“And I always eat the sandwiches Teej makes me for lunch,” Bucky added, trying to reassure Steve that he wasn’t starving completely.

“I make ‘em all on my own,” TJ said, softly, listening the steady beat of Bucky’s heart, his head laying between the soft breasts on his brother’s chest. TJ had never been disgusted by the female parts that Bucky had . . . they were just a part of Bucky, just like TJ’s twisted leg was a part of him. He started calming down now that he could sense Bucky’s negative emotions easing back slightly.

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckled, “and makes them pretty fat, too, Steve. Hard to choke down for a normal person, I think. But they taste good and I can’t help but finish them off.”

“Well, that’s good,” Steve finally laughed, finally walking over to stroke his fingers through Bucky’s hair, “I love you. I love the both of you so damn much.” In Steve’s mind, they were a family, the three of them, and Steve felt just as protective of TJ as a real brother.

“What should we have for your celebratory dinner, Teej?” Bucky asked softly, stroking his brother’s hair but meeting Steve’s worried eyes.

“I don’t know,” TJ murmured, seeming very content to be in Bucky’s arms and listen to the beat of his heart as if his brother’s heart was the best music around.

Seeing Steve debating, maybe even thinking about what might be in the pantry or ice box, Bucky offered, “we could take the beef from the ice box and make something with that? Shepherd's Pie?”

“Shepherd’s Pie sounds great,” Steve smiled, stroking his fingers through Bucky’s hair again.

“Great, Steve make the gravy when it’s time. TJ? Want to put on a pot to boil potatoes in?” Bucky quickly pulled his clothes back on, without the chest binding, and moved to the kitchen to begin working with the beef. “Someone want to go out and buy some corn?”

“I can go out, Buck!” TJ offered, hoping that his brother might let him go out on his own. Other kids his age were allowed to run to the market to pick up whatever item their mothers needed for dinner.

Bucky studied TJ for a very long, quiet moment before saying, “I’m going to give you your birthday present early. I think you deserve it now, baby. Steve, behind the door in the bedroom, under the winter comforter? Go get that.”

Blinking wide eyes, watching as Steve left the kitchen in search of the present, TJ said, “but, Buck, it’s only April!”

Nodding, Bucky ruffled TJ’s curls. “So, call it a present for being so good. I’ll get you something else for your birthday, okay?”

TJ’s eyes moved to the bedroom Bucky mostly shared with Steve when he heard the sound of wheels on hard flooring. He blinked slowly at the sight of a wheeled red wagon. Luna came up to the new object and sniffed it curiously. Steve grinned brightly at the boy and then shot a wink at Bucky.

“Mrs. O’Reilly said you can house it in the shed with the delivery bicycle. You can use it to carry things around. And, if you ask, she’ll let the delivery boy carry things up and down for you.” Bucky reached out to stroke TJ’s hair. “I had the shop owner attach a strong leather harness so you can attach it around your waist to pull behind.”

“Really?” TJ beamed brightly, hobbling over to the wagon and looking it over with wide eyes, “thanks, Buck! This way I can get things on my own!”

Bucky smiled at Steve and said, “oh, and she said if you help people by carrying their larger stuff, you can earn a nickel a load, as long as it’s within a two block radius. But,” Bucky looked down at his little brother, “you have to go with the delivery boy.”

“Really?” TJ’s mouth dropped open in shock and then he grinned again, “I can do that, Buck! I promise!”

“I know you can, Teej. It’s why I agreed for you, once I gave you the wagon. Steve thought of it, though. I just agreed it was a great idea.” Bucky nodded to Steve, smiling in happiness at his brother’s joy.

“Gee, thanks, Stevie!” TJ smiled over at Steve and then down at Luna, “can Luna come with me Buck to pick up the corn?”

“I’d prefer it, Teej,” Bucky chuckled. “He’s your guard dog, after all, right?” Bucky winked. “So,” he turned and took some money from the old canister they kept household money in. “Corn . . . Steve? Anything for the gravy?”

Steve walked back into the kitchen and started looking through what the brothers had stocked. After a moment, the lean blond looked over his shoulder and called, “we could use some flour? I don’t think what we have is enough for the gravy and the crust for the pie.”

“Hear that, Teej? Buy two pounds of flour. Four ears of corn, Steve?” He looked over at his lover, his secret husband.

“Yeah, four should do it,” Steve confirmed with a nod, turning to look at the two brothers fully.

“Two pounds of flour and four ears of corn, got it,” TJ nodded, excited to be trusted enough to go out on his own. The last time had been when Mr. Harver had attacked him, but TJ refused to let what that man did rule over his life.

“And, Teej, pick up three piece of candy, one for each of us. You know what we like. We’ll have it after we eat as a special treat.” Bucky offered the money to the eleven year old. He knew that many other boys, himself included, had done deliveries for their parents starting around age eight or nine. He hoped TJ didn’t find the job too hard with his handicap, but Bucky believed in giving TJ the tools he’d need later to survive on his own if he had to.

After they’d gotten TJ, his new wagon, and Luna to the ground level, Steve and Bucky returned to the apartment; they left the door open slightly just so they would be able to hear if TJ called from the bottom of the stairs in case he needed help. Softly, so there was no chance that anyone passing by would be able to hear, Steve asked, “you’re still not eating enough, Buck. I thought you talked with my Mama about it? Not eating isn’t going to make them go away . . .” Steve watched his lover, his husband, with worried eyes.

Bucky stepped over to Steve and leaned his head down on the shorter teen’s shoulder. “I eat, Steve, unless I get trapped in my mind? That . . .” he sighed, “doesn't sound right. If I get to thinking about it, I can’t hold food down. Your Momma thought I was becoming anxious about it and getting myself sick.”

Letting out a breath, Steve stroked his fingers down the side of Bucky’s neck as he said, “I’m terrified to lose you, Buck. You do realize how skinny you’re getting, right?” Steve knew he must look like a hypocrite for telling Bucky about his size, how _skinny_ he was, but Steve had a list of medical ailments a mile long whereas Bucky was _healthy_.

Frowning, the brunet glanced down at himself then shook his head, “I don’t think I’m _that_ skinny, doll. I fit my clothes.”

“C’mere,” Steve took Bucky’s hand and tugged him into the bedroom where they had a mirror set up. He slowly turned Bucky to face it and started pulling up the hem of his lover’s shirt, stopping before Bucky’s breasts so that the brunet wouldn’t focus on those instead of the sight of his ribs beginning to press up against his pale skin. “Look, Buck . . .” Steve said very softly, dropping a kiss to Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky’s eyes fastened on his ribs and abdomen and the brunet winced. He softly said, “I look sick . . . your Momma was right.”

“Yeah, you do, Buck,” Steve said softly, dropping another kiss to Bucky’s shoulder, “why do you think we’re all so worried for you?”

Shaking his head, Bucky softly said, “I’m sorry. I . . . I didn’t see . . . I feel hungry all the time, Steve, but when I look at myself, I get nauseous.” He hung his head.

“We’ll figure this out, Buck, together, but . . . you have to try to eat? Even if it’s just something small? Doesn’t have to be a big meal or nothing,” Steve assured his lover, knowing that they had to start small and hopefully work their way up to three meals a day.

Nodding, Bucky stepped over to Steve and hugged him close, his face in Steve’s shoulder and neck. “I really do eat when TJ makes me food, Steve, and when you’re here.”

“And . . . Buck, how often do you throw up afterwards?” Steve asked, licking his lips nervously.

Lifting his head, looking shocked, Bucky’s mouth worked open and closed over and over until, flushing, he whispered, “maybe every other day?”

Letting out a breath, Steve nodded and dropped a kiss to Bucky’s cheeks and then his lips, “that’s what I thought. We’ll work on it, okay? We’ll . . . figure something out. But, you know I think you’re the most gorgeous man in all of the world, right? And Teej, he looks up to you like this strong, amazing lion that rules the entire pride.” Steve kissed again, “and you are, Buck. I know you don’t believe me, but you really are.”

“Steve,” Bucky continued to whisper softly, “I believe you that you think I’m beautiful and that Tj thinks I’m the strongest, wisest guy around. But it’s _me_ , not you, that I have trouble with. I love you both, but it’s hard, sometimes, to see why you love me back.”

Smiling softly, Steve kissed Bucky’s lips and nipped at his bottom lip, “then, I guess I’ll jus’ have to spend my entire life showing you how much I love you . . .”

Bucky cupped Steve’s face and murmured, “I love you. I love you more than life, doll.”

“And I love you, too, Buck,” Steve met Bucky’s eyes, that love and adoration shining through his bright blue eyes. “Every single day I fall more and more in love with you. Every day I think . . . okay, this has to be it. There is no possible way I could love him anymore . . . then you go and do something amazing and wonderful and kind . . . and I go,” Steve kissed Bucky’s lips, “okay, this is it. But, it grows every single day.”

Tears welled in Bucky’s pale blue eyes and he shook his head. “But I don’t do something wonderful and amazing every day. I just do normal things.” He caressed Steve’s cheek. “It’s you who do the miraculous stuff, doll.”

“It doesn’t have to be a big thing, sweetheart,” Steve breathed out, stroking his thumb down Bucky’s cheek, “the way your nose crinkles up when you laugh or the way you dance with TJ in the living room . . . or how you hum softly to yourself when you think no one else is listening.” Steve smiled softly again, “I love you.”

“I . . .” Bucky shook his head, unable to say anything else. He merely sealed his mouth over Steve’s in a deep kiss filled with all his passion and love.

**************

August 13, 1935:

Looking over at the pier with wide pale eyes, TJ looked back at his brother and asked, “Coney Island?” He’d never been to the amusement park before, his mother always insisting he wouldn’t have a good time because he wouldn’t be able to ride the rides so would be forced to sit out for the entire day.

“Well, if you hand off our crutches to the ride attendant after seated, I don’t see why not,” Bucky said, smiling at his little brother. “Plenty of sit down rides, after all.” Bucky grinned over at Steve then back down to TJ. “Unless you just want tos troll the pier and look at what’s for sale. There’s a funny artist down the way I’m dying, someday, to have Steve challenge to a sketching contest.”

Steve snorted softly, brushing his blond hair back from his forehead before putting his hand back into the pocket of his trousers. “It’d be a duel to the death, I’m sure,” Steve grinned up at Bucky and shot a wink to TJ.

“I’ve never been on a roller coaster before . . .” TJ blinked, looking back up at the towering ride, _The Cyclone_ , the coaster making loud noises as it moved across it’s tracks.

Teasing, Bucky said, “hey, Steve, can I convince you to try the Cyclone this time?” THe brunet grinned at the two smaller males he had arrived with.

Sighing, Steve shielded his eyes as he looked at the top of the roller coaster. He and Bucky had been on every single ride on the pier together except the Cyclone. Something about the metal cars and the wooden tracks and height of the ride made Steve’s stomach flip. “We’ll see, alright? Not makin’ any promises,” he looked back at Bucky.

“Or we could wait. The attendant’s giving you the evil eye again.” Bucky chuckled and looked down at TJ. “He keeps insisting he can’t let Stevie on because the man swears Stevie is too young.”

“How old you gotta be?” TJ asked, looking up at his brother, ignoring the looks he got from people on the pier. TJ had long learned to ignore the stares of other. He wanted to enjoy his twelfth birthday. “‘Cause if he thinks Stevie’s too young, there’s no way he’s lettin’ me on!”

“Gotta be twelve,” Bucky answered swiftly.

“Well, I’m twelve, so, he can’t say anything, huh?” TJ grinned, heading towards the line of the large wooden roller coaster.

Steve groaned and said, “if Teej ain’t afraid of the coaster, then, I guess I shouldn’t be either. I swear he is the bravest kid I know!”

Bucky threw back his head and laughed then started following his brother. “Yeah, I think the same thing, Steve. TJ’s made to be a hero.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Steve chuckled, walking alongside Bucky as they approached the thrill ride.

TJ stopped right at the entrance for the ride, moving out of the way as other guests got in line as he waited for Bucky and Steve to catch up.

Bucky stepped up beside his brother not too much later. He grinned, “Steve might go on if we can get the attendant to let him.”

“Okay,” TJ nodded, watching as Steve trailed up a few steps behind the Barnes brothers, looking up at the ride and then back down at the attendant watching the line.

When the three friends approached the man at last, the grizzled looking grey-haired man with a huge bushy beard eyed them. Finally, he said, “twelve or older.”

“We’re all twelve and older, Sir,” TJ reported with a bright smile, looking up at the man, “today’s my birthday, even!”

“Yeah? Happy birthday, you sure you’re twelve?” The man frowned at them. “What year you born?” he asked TJ.

“Nineteen-twenty-four, Sir. August thirteenth, nineteen-twenty-four,” TJ reported with a nod, his wild mess of brown curls bouncing with the movements as he leaned forward a bit on his crutches to try and watch the car descend from the top of the ride.

Grunting, the attendant turned to Steve and insisted, “date of birth.”

Steve had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at the attendant. He knew he looked young, but he didn’t look _that_ young. “Do we really need to do this every time, Sir? July fourth, nineteen-eighteen.”

“As long as you aren’t shaving yet, I do. It’s not worth my job if I break the rules.” The man looked over Steve once more, “this time you riding or you gonna change your mind again?”

Flushing a bit, Steve raised his chin a bit and said, “I’ll ride it this time.” He ignored the flip his stomach did as he heard the cheerful and loud screams of the current riders of the Cyclone.

“Right,” the man said. Frowning, he turned back to TJ, “when’d your party eat last?”

Blinking, TJ tilted his head and he said, “we had some breakfast before we got here . . . Bucky took me to a diner for my birthday! I got to have pancakes!” TJ rocked slightly, his crutches supporting the movement easily.

“How long ago was that? An hour?” the man looked worried suddenly. “Don’t want pancake all over my ride.”

Scrunching up his nose, TJ shook his head, “not gonna throw up, Sir! I don’t get sick very much.” TJ looked up at Bucky, “tell ‘im, Buck. I don’t get sick.”

“The blond don’t, either?” the attendant asked, frowning at Steve severely.

“I won’t get sick on your ride,” Steve finally huffed, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets. “Now, can we please go on the ride, Sir?”

Shrugging, the man said, “when it stops, sure. Gotta wait for it to go through all the way, don’t we?” He checked the track and nodded as the train came to a stop right on time. He let the people out of the train.

When the attendant told him he was allowed to board the ride, TJ grinned and thrust his crutches at the older man, saying, “can you please hold these for me, Sir? Can’t take ‘em on the ride.”

Sighing, the man nodded and set them up against his little booth. “Sure, kid. But if you fall out, it’s not my fault. I’m just following rules.” He allowed TJ, Bucky, and Steve into the same car. Once they’d settled, the attendant moved to help the next group.

TJ seemed to be vibrating with excitement next to Bucky, grinning up at him, “this is gonna be so much fun!” He leaned over to look at Steve, “right, Stevie?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, checking to make sure the safety bar was secure, “it’ll be lots of fun.” The blond looked a little pale but he forced a smile on his face.

Worried at the look and tone, Bucky asked, “wanna get back off, Stevie? We don’t have to do this.”

“Nah, I’m good, Buck, really,” Steve nodded, “it’ll be fine once it starts movin’.”

Nodding at his best friend, his lover, Bucky said, “okay.” He looked to TJ, still worried. “Hold onto the safety bar, Teej. You and Steve might be a little thin for this ride.”

“Okay,” TJ nodded, putting his hands on the safety bar, holding on securely.

As the ride started, Steve’s knuckles holding on just that much tighter, TJ grinned at his brother. When they reached the highest point, right before the initial drop, TJ said, “look at how high up we are!”

Bucky instructed, quickly, “hold the bar, Teej!” He demonstrated, ignoring that TJ already held the bar. “Steve?”

TJ was unable to explain to Bucky that he was already doing what he told him to do due to the fact that the ride started to drop. The boy let out a pleased sounding squeal as the wind rushed his hair back, the ride moving along the tracks at a high speed.

Within a minute and a half the coaster came to a halt back at the the platform, the attendant studying the three males in the lead car carefully. “You’re not going to get sick on my coaster are you?” He grumbled, unlocking the safety bar and reaching for Steve.

Steve shook his head, looking pale and shaky, but he managed to get off the coaster on his own before bolting towards the closest exit.

With a frown, Bucky slipped from the coaster car and helped TJ out, letting the attendant give the boy his crutches. Bucky said, “I’m going after Steve.” He bolted after the blond, knowing TJ would follow at his slower pace. “Steve? Stevie?” Bucky called as he caught up to his lover.

Bucky found Steve bent over the trash can closest to the ride, heaving violently, his shoulders trembling with the force of them.

Frowning, Bucky stroked Steve’s back, waiting for the blond to finish getting sick. “You didn’t eat _that_ much breakfast, Steve,” he said, softly.

Groaning, Steve wiped the back of his hand across his mouth as he straightened up once more. Sweat beaded the blond’s brow and he waved dismissively, “I’m fine, Buck . . .”

Backing up, dropping his hand, Bucky nodded, still looking worried. He checked over his shoulder, trying to spot his brother. “If you say so, Steve. Maybe we should hit the arcade and wiat on any more rides.”

TJ hobbled down the ramp behind the other riders, not wanting to hold them up. He smiled at Bucky and Steve, looking exhilarated, “that was so fun! Can we go ‘gain, Buck?”

Steve groaned softly.

“Steve didn’t enjoy it, Teej,” Bucky said, shoving his hands into his pockets so he would reach for Steve again.

“Oh,” TJ nodded, giving Steve a small smile, “okay, we don’t hafta go on it ‘gain.” TJ shrugged his shoulders, looking at Bucky and then back at Steve. “What do we do, then?”

“I think we should take it tame, do whatever Steve wants for awhile until his stomach settles?” Bucky offered quietly.

“But, it’s TJ’s birthday, Buck,” Steve flushed brightly, brushing his hair back from his forehead, “if he wants to ride it again, I can wait, really, I don’t mind.”

Bucky frowned then shrugged. “Okay. Teej, Steve said he’ll wait on a bench if you wanna go again.”

“But . . . it’s no fun waitin’ on everyone else,” TJ pointed out, looking up at his brother, “we can do somethin’ else.” TJ frowned softly in worry, “should we go home? Steve don’t look so good . . .”

Taking his left hand out of his pocket, Bucky ran it down his face and sighed. “Why don’t I wait while the two of you argue it out, okay?” Bucky turned and headed to a small fence around a water ride.

Flushing red, TJ dropped his eyes and moved out of the way of someone trying to get to the trash can. He didn’t say anything, worried about upsetting his brother again.

Steve frowned fiercely, looking at TJ and then over at Bucky. He walked over and asked, “what was that about, Buck?”

“What was what?” Bucky asked, frowning softly, turning away from the view of the water ride. “You want to rest, TJ wants to play. I’m good either way. So I left it up to you two to decide.”

“I wanna go home,” TJ’s soft voice came from behind Steve, making the blond turn towards the twelve year old.

Throwing his hands in the air, Bucky shook his head, “my God, is everything I say going to upset everyone? Fine, do what the hell you both want. I’m the bad guy.” He headed towards the bathroom.

Steve glanced to TJ and then in the direction that Bucky went. Looking back to TJ, Steve said, “wait here, okay?” He hurried after Bucky, grabbing his lover’s arm before he could make it to the privacy of a stall. “Buck, what’s the matter? You’re snapping at TJ. You know he’s not used to making decisions on his own . . .”

“Well, apparently I’m making all the wrong ones. I get you on a ride, you get sick. I offer to let you rest, you argue. TJ wants a ride, then he doesn’t. Why can’t you two discuss it, without suddenly me having to take charge? Why is it everytime things go a little south, suddenly TJ wants to leave? I’m not the one with all the damn answers.” Bucky ran his shaking hand through his hair, not meeting Steve’s eyes, looking a little pale.

“Buck? You alright?” Steve put the back of his hand on Bucky’s forehead, frowning in worry. “You’re runnin’ a fever, Buck,” Steve reported, feeling the slightly clammy and warm skin beneath his hand.

“Yeah, been like this since last night.” Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets again, looking like all he wanted was to climb into bed for a nap.

“We should go home,” Steve said with a nod.

“It’s Teej’s birthday . . .” Bucky protested.

“And, Coney Island will be here tomorrow, next week, whenever we want to come back for another visit,” Steve said, “TJ will understand.”

“No, Steve, I already wrecked his birthday by _snapping_.” Bucky shook his head and tried to get to a stall again.

“Hey, you didn’t want to make the decisions, this is me making the decision. We’re goin’ home, okay? Getting you into bed,” Steve said firmly.

Pausing, Bucky let out a sigh and hung his head. He said, very softly, “right, home.”

Sighing, knowing no one would be happy now, Steve nodded and said, “can you make it home, Buck? Looks like you’re gonna be sick . . .”

Bucky kept his eyes down, “I’m fine. Go check on Teej? He’s too pretty to leave alone for long, Stevie.”

“You’ll come out soon?” Steve asked, blue eyes flashing with worry.

With a miserable sigh, Bucky said, “yeah, as soon as I clean up.”

“Clean up?” Steve frowned in confusion, trying to see where Bucky could have gotten himself dirty.

“Yeah,” the brunet lifted his eyes. “Didn’t make the toilet in time. My stomach decided the other way to you was the way to go.”

“Oh . . .” Steve flushed and nodded, backing away a bit, “sure you don’t need any help, Buck?” 

“You got fresh clothes on you?” Bucky asked, sounding tired. “No? Then I’m gonna take these off and try to wash what I can.”

“You look about ready to collapse, Buck, let me help you? Please?” Steve stepped forward again, carefully walking Bucky back into the stall before shutting it closed behind them.

“But Teej is out there alone, Steve . . .” Bucky protested.

“And, you’re about to pass out in the bathroom, Buck, let me help so we can get this done quicker, alright?” Steve met Bucky’s eyes.

“Fine, okay, but go get TJ and bring him in so I know he’s okay,” Bucky asked, unfastening his buckle.

Nodding, Steve slipped out of the the stall and within only a few moments of the sounds of TJ’s crutches and brace could be heard coming into the public restroom. Steve slipped back into the stall and started helping Bucky, who had his pants and underwear off.

“Mind if I sit a moment before figuring out how to go wash these?” Bucky asked, sounding winded already. Apparently, he’d used a majority of his strength to go on the ride and pretend to be happy and healthy for TJ.

“Sure, Buck,” Steve helping Bucky to sit on the toilet and then said, softly, “I have an idea. I don’t think we’ll be able to clean off the underwear here . . . but your trousers are mostly fine, Buck. Once you’re rested, do you think you can make it home in just your trousers? We’d leave the underwear here.”

“You want me to throw out my underwear?” Bucky asked. He leaned his head on the stall wall. “Man, I’m wrecking Teej’s birthday.” He didn’t control his volume well enough and could be heard, softly, outside the cubicle.

“Like I said, don’t think we’re cleanin’ them here . . .” Steve said, keeping his voice soft, “we can getcha another pair later. You have others at home, Buck.”

TJ stayed out in the main area of the restroom, looking down at his feet. He didn’t say anything, not wanting to bother Steve or Bucky.

Bucky used the toilet paper to clean himself up as best he could then pulled the trousers back on. He grabbed his messy underwear and sighed then got off the toilet and left the stall, heading to the sink to try to salvage the underwear. “Hi,” he said softly to his brother. “Sorry, I’m such a pissant.”

“Didn’t say that,” TJ said softly, glancing at Bucky and then back down at the floor.

“Maybe we can try this again in a couple days? When I’m not so . . . sick?” Bucky tried. He looked over at his little brother with worried, tired eyes.

TJ shrugged his shoulders, “okay, Buck,” he agreed.

Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before walking up next to Bucky to try and help him save the undergarment.

“Right,” Bucky sighed and gave up. He turned to the trash can and threw out the clothing item, despite the cost. Walking from the bathroom, he headed towards the entrance of the park and the train home.

Steve caught up with Bucky within a few strides and TJ could be heard following close behind. After the ride home, Steve helped Bucky up the stairs and into the apartment. Steve opened the door with the key he had, Luna’s ears perking up as he heard the door open and his masters step into the room.

Bucky waited by the door, turning to look at TJ. His pale eye held regret. “Sorry . . .”

“It’s okay, Buck . . . I’m gonna go take Luna for a walk,” TJ announced, whistling to get Luna’s attention. The large husky jumped from his position on the floor and bounded over to the thin twelve year old, walking besides TJ while the boy turned to walk back down the hall and the steps.

Bucky watched for a long moment then turned and headed into the apartment and for the small bathroom, leaving the door open in his haste to make the toilet this time. After a long moment, Bucky cleaned up, flushing the toilet then standing at the small sink to try to wash his trousers.

“What do you need from me, Buck?” Steve asked softly, worry in his blue eyes, “want me to warm up some water for a bath?”

“Want you to wind back time and make it so I didn’t wreck TJ’s birthday again. I’m always doing that to the poor kid.” Bucky shook his head and put the cleaned trousers in the dirty clothing to be washed.

“You didn’t wreck his birthday, Buck, you got sick. It can happen to anyone,” Steve assured his lover, reaching out to stroke his fingers over Bucky’s.

“Why does it have to happen on TJ’s birthday? One damn ride and we had to come home,” Bucky grumbled.

“We’ll go again, Buck,” Steve stroked again, his voice soft and concerned, “you should lie down, sweetheart. Get some rest.”

“Go again? TJ didn’t sound like he wanted to go back,” Bucky took the washcloth and started washing in cold water.

“Then, we’ll see? If he wants to go again, we’ll go again, it’s not that big of a deal, Buck,” Steve watched Bucky closely, a worried frown on his features.

“Yeah, okay. We can do that,” Bucky sighed and cleaned out the cloth, adding that to the dirty laundry before drying off and hanging up the towel for reuse. The brunet turned and leaned a hip on the sink, studying Steve for a moment through tired eyes. “The way I’m going, the presents will be a disaster.”

“Presents?” Steve asked, tilting his head a bit.

“Yeah, for TJ’s birthday? I got him two.” Bucky headed past Steve towards the bedroom to get some clothes on, one hand over his lower belly.

“I thought Coney Island was his present,” Steve commented, following Bucky into the bedroom. Once in the room, Steve reached out to carefully begin unbinding Bucky’s chest, wanting him as comfortable as possible, happy to find that it wasn’t as tight as Bucky had done before.

Bucky turned from Steve, keeping his chest out of his lover’s touch. Instead, he grabbed a very loose shirt and slipped it on then found underpants to slide into. “Coney Island was a treat, not his present. I got him a harness he can train Luna to use to pull the wagon. And then I got him a book of musical compositions. It was going cheap from the library because two pages were burned from that fire they had.”

“I’m sure he’ll love ‘em, Buck,” Steve smiled softly, not reaching out to touch Bucky again. 

“Stevie?” Bucky lifted his eyes and continued to look upset, miserable, “I think I’ve got this cycle thing down . . . and I’m starting in two days, I think.”

Blinking, Steve nodded and said, “that’s great, Buck. That way you know when it’s gonna start and you can plan for it.”

“Not great. Means I’m gonna be starting in two days when Damon’s manager is at the office. I’ll be worse than even today.” Bucky hugged himself, winced, then dropped his arms away from his chest, instead wrapping them around his abdomen. “And TJ’s been gone a long time. I should go out after him . . .” he looked towards the front door.

“You aren’t going anywhere, I can go look for him,” Steve said, pointing to the bed, “you need to _rest_ , Buck.”

Just then, the door opened and TJ hobbled inside, Luna trailing behind him. The pair moved to the couch, out of sight from the bedroom.

Bucky turned for the main room. “Teej? Baby, you okay?” he called softly, sounding worried.

“Yeah? Jus’ took Luna for a walk, like I said?” TJ said, looking over from where he sat on the couch, his fingers stroking through Luna’s soft fur.

“Yeah, I know where you went, baby,” Bucky sighed. He walked out to join his brother, dressed only in the underwear and loose shirt. “Just wanna make sure you feel okay? You know, you can open your presents if you want?”

“You want me to?” TJ asked, looking at his brother, worrying at his bottom lip, flushing it a deeper shade of red.

“Well, only if you want, Teej. They’re _your_ presents.” Bucky placed his hand over his abdomen and watched his brother.

“But . . . you don’t feel good. You should be in bed, Buck,” TJ insisted, beginning to push back to his feet, grabbing his crutches as well. “C’mon, you need to rest so you can feel better.”

“Okay . . . Bucky tilted his head a bit. “So, no presents?” He pushed to his feet with a wince and sighed, “okay, baby, if that’s what you want. I’ll go lay down.”

“I don’t know . . .” TJ finally admitted on a whimper. “Jus’ want you to feel better . . .”

“TJ, baby, anything you want won’t get you in trouble, I just want to know one simple thing, okay?” Bucky reached out to stroke TJ’s curls.

“Okay . . .” TJ nodded, meeting Bucky’s eyes.

“Would you like Steve to add chocolate to the cake frosting tonight or leave it vanilla?” Bucky stroked again.

Blinking, TJ shook his head, “we shouldn’t have cake until you can have it, too, Buck . . .”

“Well, Teej, since the cake is already made and in the ice box, it’ll go to waste,” Bucky offered a tired smile. “And besides, it’s coming out the butt, not the other way. So a small piece won’t get me sicker.”

Nodding, TJ ran his bottom lip under his teeth once more and said, “just vanilla is fine . . . don’t wanna make Steve work more . . .”

Nodding, Bucky leaned in to kiss TJ’s forehead. “My cycle, if I’m right, starts in a couple days, baby. Sorry.” He called louder, “hear that Steve? Vanilla frosting. You need any confectioner’s sugar?”

“Oh! No, I meant no frosting . . . the cake’s fine, I promise,” TJ rushed to say, his naturally wide eyes looking up at his brother.

Bucky tilted his head, “no frosting?”

Shaking his head, TJ answered, “no, jus’ cake is fine. Both you and Stevie should be restin’. Stevie got sick, too, ‘member? I can make dinner . . . how ‘bout sandwiches?”

Nodding, Bucky said, “that sounds great, actually. Sandwiches, Stevie, for dinner?” Bucky reached out to lean a hand on the couch so he could remain balanced.

“Go lie down,” TJ ordered, an unusual firmness in the twelve year old’s tone. “Dinner won’t be for a few more hours. I’ll make sure to come get you and Stevie when it’s ready.”

Nodding, Bucky stroked TJ’s curls again then turned and shuffled from the room, into the small bedroom. He fell onto the bed with a soft groan. “He’ll wake us when it’s dinner, Stevie,” Bucky muttered into the pillow.

Steve nodded, climbing into the bed with Bucky and dropping a kiss to his shoulder, “that’s nice of him. Letting his big brother sleep.”


	10. The War Within, the War Without

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Intersex, Period-typical homophobia, Violence, Self-doubt, reference sexual abuse and child abuse**

December 25, 1935:

Putting a finger to his lips, Bucky grinned at Steve, who’d come over quite early in the snow. It was just after sunrise, in fact. The brunet snuck quietly over to the couch from the doorway, silent in his bare feet, despite the cold floor. Instead, he eased down to a kneeling position and reached out to gently stroke TJ’s hair. “Baby? Wake up. Steve’s come to say something to you important.”

Blinking awake, startled at first, TJ looked up at his brother groggily, “wha’?” Even Luna, who always lay right under TJ, pressed up against the couch, huffed at being woken so early in the morning. 

Chuckling, Bucky turned to Steve. “Stevie? He’s awake.”

Laughing softly, Steve said, “Merry Christmas, Teej . . .”

Grumbling, turning his head into his pillow, his thin body turning away from the two older men, TJ murmured, “don’t celebrate Christmas . . . too early . . .”

Laughing, Bucky said, “didn’t Steve tell you that Christmas means presents, baby? He’s brought one for you.”

“Presents?” TJ yawned, turning back over and blinking slowly in the dimly lit apartment.

“Yup, got one for both you and Bucky,” Steve grinned brightly, rocking on his heels with excitement.

“But, if you’d rather sleep . . .” Bucky stood, “I guess Steve and I can eat pancakes without you . . .”

“Gonna make pancakes?” TJ yawned again, rolling to get off the couch but he misjudged the amount of cushion left and fell to the hard floor, limbs tangled in the blanket he used.

Bucky instantly knelt down and untangled his brother, making sure to check for injuries. He then began to help TJ into his brace, grinning. “So, food motivates him, Steve. Must be about twelve then. Food and twelve year olds go hand in hand.”

TJ gently smacked Bucky’s bicep, “do not!” though, TJ’s stomach picked that exact time to rumble very loudly.

Steve laughed and grinned, “so, we should get breakfast and then open presents, huh?”

“Yeah, before he starts gnawing on our fingers.” Bucky laughed and rose, offering a hand up to TJ.

TJ took the offered hand and got to his feet, grabbing his crutches on the way up. “Gotta take Luna out,” TJ yawned again, the large Husky scrambling to his feet at the mention of a walk.

“Well, be careful on the ice and snow, baby. Slow and steady,” Bucky advised, heading for the small cooking area.

“Ice and snow,” TJ yawned again, hobbling over to the rack where they hung all their coats and winter gear. He pulled on his coat, having to balance precariously since he couldn’t use his crutches to help balance himself, and tugged on his hat over his unruly curls. “Be right back,” he called before opening the door and walking Luna out of the apartment.

Steve laughed and followed Bucky into the kitchen, “he’s growin’ up, ain’t he?” Steve asked softly.

“And I was about to say that _they’re so adorable at that age_ ,” Bucky chuckle. He kissed Steve’s lips then turned and pulled out the items he needed for the promised pancakes. “How’s your Momma today? Over that bad cold? It keeps lingering doesn’t it?”

Sighing, Steve’s smile left his features and he nodded, “yeah, it’s the cough that worries me, ya know? She’ll seem okay one day but then almost too weak to get outta bed the next . . .”

“Has she broken down and gone to a doctor yet? They can’t want her working near the patients if she has no energy to lift them,” Bucky turned a worried frown on his lover.

“I’ve told her that! But, she just tells me she’s fine!” Steve shook his head, throwing his arms into the air, “I’m real worried, Buck. I . . . I offered to stay with her today, ‘cause it’s Christmas, ya know? But . . . she said she was too tired to get outta bed, that she wanted me to come out and have some fun . . .”

Sighing, Bucky passed some ingredients to Steve and asked, “want us to come to your place to do this?”

“She’d just feel like she needs to _host_ then. You know how much she loves to spoil TJ . . .” Steve shook his head, taking the ingredients from Bucky, “what if . . . Buck . . . what if she doesn’t make it?”

Immediately putting down what he held, Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve and hugged, tightly. “Have you told her how scared you are, doll? That you’re _that_ worried?”

Shaking his head, burying his face in Bucky’s chest, Steve answered, “this is the first time I’ve actually said it . . .”

“Maybe, doll,” Bucky lifted Steve’s face to meet his eyes, sympathy and love shining in his own, “you need to tell your Momma, too. She might give in and go if she knows how scared you are.”

“You’re right,” Steve nodded, letting out a deep breath, “but . . . I don’t want you or Teej there right now, okay? It might be contagious . . .”

Nodding, Bucky kissed Steve softly on the lips, “okay. We’ll stay away so you can concentrate on her. Now, wanna help me make breakfast for that growing boy of ours?”

Letting out a breath, Steve nodded, rolling his shoulders back, “yeah . . . oh! Buck, that’s somethin’ else I wanted to talk to you about . . .” He started putting the ingredients for the pancakes into a single bowl.

“Yeah? What?” Bucky grinned, glancing towards the front door on the lookout for TJ. “Something you need to talk about? About TJ?”

“Yeah, about Teej,” Steve nodded, glancing at the door and then back to Bucky, “he’s growin’ up pretty fast and I jus’ wanted to ask . . . have you had the _talk_ with him, yet? Ya know . . . about sex and whatnot?”

“Sex?” Stilling, Bucky looked stunned. “With _Teej_? But . . . he’s just a little kid!”

“But, he isn’t, Buck,” Steve said softly, reaching over to stroke Bucky’s forearm, “he’ll be thirteen this next year. I’m not sayin’ that he’s gonna have sex anytime soon . . . but, _things_ will start happening to his body soon, you know that.”

Flushing, looking down at his own body which upset him quite often, Bucky sighed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I can help you if you want? I don’t know what would keep TJ the most comfortable? I just . . . I don’t want him to be scared with the changes his body is about to go through, ya know?” Steve stroked Bucky’s wrist again, “and he’ll only have to go through one set of changes, Buck, it won’t be as painful for him.”

Wrapping his arms around his own abdomen, Bucky nodded, “yeah. TJ’ll at least be spared that horror.” He lifted his eyes to meet Steve’s, “I . . . love you, Stevie.”

“I love you, too, Buck,” Steve smiled, “I’m hopin’ I’m not stepping over any boundaries. I jus’ know he’ll always be your baby brother, Buck, and sometimes you might not see that he’s transitioning into a young man.”

Shaking his head, Bucky softly muttered, “better than half a man.” Louder he said, “no lines. It’s fine. Want Teej safe and happy.”

“Buck, you’re a man, a full man,” Steve leaned over to kiss the side of Bucky’s lips just as the door opened and Luna bounded in before TJ, who at least looked slightly more awake.

Bucky didn’t answer, merely turning to work on breakfast. He at least had put on some weight over the past few months, eating regularly and working on trying not to vomit every other day. He still felt ashamed and distressed by his womanly curves, but the brunet no longer mentioned getting rid of them.

“Hey, Buck, it’s super icy out there . . . jus’ down the road there was an accident,” TJ reported, shuddering as he pulled off his hat and slipped out of his coat, an old one of Bucky’s.

Whirling around, eyes wide in worry and horror, Bucky said, “accident?” He hurried over to check his brother for injuries. “How? What happened?”

“Mr. Jenkins hit the sidewalk, I think,” TJ answered, “he didn’t look like he was hurt or nothin’ so I didn’t stop. Others were already standin’ ‘round. Frank, the boy in the next grade, he was there, too, Buck,” TJ grabbed his crutches and positioned them correctly on his arms.

Bucky frowned and studied TJ despite the reassurances. “So, you weren’t involved? You’re not hurt?”

“Nah, Buck, I was on the other side of the road,” TJ assured his brother, his body seeming perfectly fine.

Hugging his brother again, Bucky nodded, “okay, baby. As long as you’re okay. Come on, you can help us with the rest of breakfast.” Bucky stood and reluctantly let go of TJ, turning back to what he’d originally been doing. As if nothing untoward had happened, he suddenly asked, “so, Teej, anyone at school catch your eye as cute?”

Blinking, TJ tilted his head, “cute? Whatcha mean, Buck?” He followed after his brother into the small cooking area. Luna sat right at the edge of the kitchen, never allowed to be in the actual eating area.

“Like Steve and I think the other’s cute. Anyone you like?” Bucky clarified.

“Oh,” TJ flushed and looked down at the floor, suddenly finding his feet very interesting, “I - - I don’t know? I mean . . . Frank’s kinda cute, I guess? Got a big nose, though . . .”

Bucky glanced over, smiling, looking amused, “Frank? And, just as a matter of note, you’re allowed to think girls are cute, too, Teej. Any girls or just the boys interest you?” In their household, in private, no one shamed another for same sex interests, at least, even if the outside world would hurt them.

Scrunching up his nose, TJ shook his head, “the girls laugh at me. I don’t really like ‘em.”

“And the boys don’t laugh?” Bucky sounded intrigued.

Shrugging his shoulders, TJ focused intently on his feet, looking very uncomfortable suddenly. “Some of them don’t.”

“Teej, do you like to look at naked girls or boys? I love to look at Steve naked.” Bucky stepped closer and wrapped a comforting arm around his brother. “Cause I could get you some pictures to look at if you want?”

Flushing even brighter, TJ shook his head frantically, “nah, Buck. I’m okay. They’ll jus’ laugh at me some more . . .”

“TJ,” Bucky lifted TJ’s chin. “I didn’t mean pictures to look at in public. I mean ones to keep in your private things. That you can look at then touch yourself to make yourself feel good in the bathroom.” He smiled. “It’s called masturbation, TJ, and all growing boys and girls do it. It’s one of the things young people do when they are turning into men and women.”

“I ain’t a fairy,” TJ said suddenly, flushing even brighter red, pulling his head out of Bucky’s hand.

Blinking, stunned, Bucky asked “Fairy?”

“That’s what Linus and John call me . . . they say the only thing I’ll be good as is one of those fairy whores by the docks . . . ‘cause I can’t do nothing,” TJ flushed, swallowing thickly, unable to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“And,” Bucky asked, trying to stay calm until he could figure things out, “what is a fairy whore?”

“Those boys by the docks that let other guys have sex with ‘em for money,” TJ answered, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him . . . he wanted to be anywhere but there.

“Well, that Linus and John don’t know what they’re talking about then,” Bucky said decisively. “You don’t need to whore yourself for money. You have a job right now, more than they can say, and soon will be able to get even better jobs.” Bucky reached out to ruffle TJ’s curls, “as for being a fairy, if that’s what they call men who love other men, then I guess it’s just the way the times are. It’s not fair and it’s not right, but our culture hates same sex lovers. It’s why Steve and I hide our love.”

Scrunching up his nose again, TJ shrugged his shoulders, “but . . . you and Steve are married, you ain’t fairies. You’ve always loved one another.”

“TJ, how much do you know about the law concerning same sex couples?” Bucky asked, skipping the reproductive talk for a more important one.

“Jus’ what you and Steve told me. That you guys could get arrested or killed if I told anyone,” TJ answered, finally lifting his eyes to meet his brother’s.

Nodding, Bucky said, “it’s against the law. Yes. And is punishable by imprisonment or even death.” Bucky stroked TJ’s curls again. “Which is why Steve and I never legally married in church, synagogue, or before the justice. We are married in our hearts, but not the law.”

“Yeah, I know that, Buck,” TJ confirmed with a nod, his pale eyes flickering to look at Steve, who watched the brothers with a worried frown, then he snapped his attention back to Bucky.

“And men who love other men are called a lot of nasty names. _Fairies_ is one of them. Now, TJ, I’ve been told very recently that you are becoming a young man now, no longer a little kid. That means you need certain information so you aren’t confused or frightened by changes in your body. As well, you don’t accidentally do something to get someone in trouble or even pregnant. How much do you know about the reproductive act?” Bucky tried to meet TJ’s eyes, tried to be understanding and informative and supportive.

“Jus’ what Mr. Harver did,” TJ replied softly, “but, I’m pretty sure putting your . . .” TJ flushed bright red and ducked his head in shame, “ _ya know_ in someone’s mouth ain’t gonna get anyone pregnant.”

“Penis?” Bucky said. “We can use the words in our house, TJ. They are not shameful words. Penis and testicles and rectum and breasts and vagina . . . all are very acceptable medical terms, in fact.” He offered TJ a smile. “And no, a penis in the mouth doesn’t end in pregnancy. A penis in a vagina very well can.”

TJ scrunched his nose up in disgust, “don’t want none of that, Buck.”

“You don’t want to put your penis in a girl’s vagina?” Bucky tilted his head. “So, girl’s don’t make your body feel excited?”

Flushing so red that the blush went to the back of his neck and disappeared under his collar, TJ shook his head, breathing out, “no . . .”

“Do boys’ bodies make your own body excited?” Bucky asked gently.

“Noises,” TJ suddenly blurted out and then his eyes widened in shock and he quickly looked away.

Puzzled, Bucky asked, “noises make your body excited?”

Flushing, TJ shook his head, looking anywhere but at Steve and Bucky, “I - - I don’t mean to, Buck, I promise! I ain’t eavesdropping!”

Realizing immediately what TJ referred to, Bucky chuckled, looking slightly embarrassed. “Ah, so the sounds of me and Steve having sex excite you? Teej, when you hear us, is there a particular boy you imagine as you touch yourself?” He hoped to God it wasn’t Steve or, God forbid, _him_.

Swallowing thickly, TJ licked his plush lips, “I . . . I . . .” he squirmed a bit, looking as uncomfortable as he sounded, “I really don’t mean to listen in, Buck, I promise . . .”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky sank down to kneel before his small sized brother. “TJ, when Momma and Papa had sex, I heard it most times, too. I’d imagine Steve. Is there someone you imagine?”

TJ nodded, worrying at his bottom lip.

Taking a slow breath, Bucky asked, “is it me?”

Eyes widening in shock, TJ shook his head frantically, “I ain’t _sick_ , Buck! You’re my brother!” 

“Thank God,” Bucky breathed and hugged his brother. “So, is it Steve you imagine? I won’t be angry.”

TJ glanced at Steve and then shook his head, “no, it . . . it’s not Stevie . . .”

Stroking TJ’s cheek, meeting his eyes, Bucky said, “okay, you don’t have to say if you don’t want to. I just wanted to be sure it wasn’t someone whom you couldn’t have. Is the boy in your class?”

“I don’t know him . . .” TJ said softly, brows furrowing in confusion.

Tilting his own head, Bucky asked, “is he older looking?”

TJ nodded, “he looks older . . . older than even you and Stevie, I think . . .”

Worried suddenly, Bucky asked, gently, “an adult man, TJ?” He tried not to sound disapproving.

“I . . . I think so?” TJ said, slowly lifting his eyes.

Nodding, Bucky said, “and where have you seen him? On this block?” He hoped to God it wasn’t another sicko who attacked children.

“I haven’t seen ‘im before,” TJ replied, swallowing again as he frowned, “at least . . . I don’t think I have? He’s got black hair . . . green eyes? He likes green . . .”

“TJ? How do you know this man?” Bucky cupped his brother’s face, studying his eyes worriedly.

“I don’t know? But . . . I do _know_ him, Buck, he’s . . . around,” TJ closed his eyes and took a breath, letting it out slowly, “I see him . . . without him being here?”

“In your mind and heart?” Bucky asked gently. He could handle a fantasy man who TJ might or might never actually meet. That was a lot safer than some real man whom might hurt TJ.

Eyes opening, TJ nodded, a small smile on his face, “yeah! He’s in my head . . . sometimes I feel like he wants me to come to him . . . but, I think he’s too far away.”

Nodding, Bucky breathed out in relief and smiled gently. “And, TJ, you like seeing him in your head and heart? Like how he looks?”

“Yeah, he’s real pretty, Buck. He’s got green eyes and has long black hair! It goes past his ears, even . . . but, he doesn’t talk to me . . . I don’t know if he can see me or not . . .” TJ shrugged his shoulders with a soft sigh.

Nodding, Bucky sat back on his heels and dropped his hands to TJ’s wrists. “And when you see him, is he a man in all parts? He has a penis, too?”

“Sometimes,” TJ nodded, smiling softly, “but, sometimes he’s like you and sometimes he has all girl parts . . .”

Blinking, Bucky looked at Steve. “Like me?” He turned his head back to look at TJ. “You fantasize sometimes that your guy has girl _and_ boy parts, Teej?”

Flushing, TJ worried at his bottom lip and said, “he’s been a snake, too, Buck.”

Hesitating, Bucky softly asked, “TJ, when you see him and get excited, when you want to masturbate, what does he look like? Is he an animal then?”

Scrunching up his nose, TJ glared at his brother, “do you think I’m sick, Buck? First ya ask if I want you to sex me and then you ask if I wanna sex an animal?”

“Teej, I am hoping to God you aren’t sick and that’s why I’m asking. I never know your secrets unless you tell me, do I?” Bucky stroked his brother on both cheeks. “And I worry sometimes just what kinds of things you learn when you’re out of my sight.” Sighing, looking rueful, Bucky said, “now I sound like Momma.”

“Momma at least never asked if I wanted to have sex with her,” TJ flushed bright red, looking away from Bucky. “No, Buck, I don’t wanna have sex with an animal. I don’t wanna have sex with you or Steve. I . . . he’s just . . . he changes a lot.”

Sinking to his butt and crossing his legs, Bucky studied his brother. “TJ, I’m going to ask straight out just to be sure. Are you interested in sex with anyone else, man or woman, other than this man you see in your mind?”

“Not really,” TJ shrugged, “he . . . he’s amazing, Buck. He can do magic!”

“Okay, so here’s the next question.” Bucky offered a smile, “if you have a lover, even if you haven't met him yet, and you have a job, why are you worried about those boys telling you you’ll be a fairy whore?”

Flushing, TJ dropped his eyes again and he said, “they . . . they say it an awful lot and . . .” TJ shrugged his shoulders again, “I - - I like guys and . . . and Mr. Harver called me it when he . . . _ya know_ . . .”

“But you just said you don’t like all guys, just the one in your head. Besides, I don’t care if you like all guys or Mr. Harver and those boys are obsessed with sailors and their habits down on the docks. You are not a fairy, nor are you a whore. And you never will be. You are a wonderful young man who will make someone, man or woman, a very good husband one day. Until then, you are a hard worker, eager to learn and help. Those others are, I predict, either assholes or lazy bums.” Bucky touched foreheads. “You are _my_ TJ and I am so very proud of you.”

“Really? Even . . . even if I’m really only good at the piano?” TJ asked softly.

Laughing, Bucky hugged TJ, “out of all the things you picked to be good at, you picked something that doesn't require both legs, didn’t you? A pianist can wear a brace and walk with crutches, as long as he has one foot for the pedals and his hands are in great order. You, my dear brother, picked the perfect talent.”

Sighing softly, TJ asked, “what if I never meet ‘im, Buck?” He hugged his older brother in return, worry in his tone.

“Well, describe him for Steve to draw and all three of us will be on the lookout for him, okay?” Bucky smiled and hugged back.

“You promise? You’ll help me find ‘im?” TJ asked.

Finally, Steve spoke up, “of course we’ll help you find him, Teej! Everyone deserves to find their soulmate!”

Smiling wider, Bucky nodded, “of course we will. You do realize that he might be a very long way off right now? Have you heard him speak at all?”

“Sometimes, he doesn’t sound like us, Buck . . . he sound - - sounds kinda like Mr. and Mrs. Larsen? Ya know, the couple that runs that shop a few blocks away?” TJ answered, smiling as he thought about the man he only saw in his dreams and sometimes even during the day when he was awake but . . . Bucky always woke him up before too long during the day visits.

Noting the dreamy look, the one TJ often wore when he stopped paying attention and started daydreaming, Bucky turned a smile to Steve. “Looks like the way I feel around you, Stevie.”

“Well, now we know where he goes, at least,” Steve chuckled softly, giving Bucky a smile. They could deal with a fantasy man . . . many young men and women had fantasy lovers. Most likely, TJ would grown out of it and be open to _real_ lovers.

Bucky reached over to carefully touch TJ’s knee. “Hey, Teej, breakfast and presents then you can go visit your husband, okay?”

Shaking himself, TJ blinked several times and smiled, “okay, breakfast and presents . . .”

Standing, Bucky offered TJ a hand up again, “gonna help us finish making it?”

“Yeah, Buck, I can help,” TJ nodded, taking Bucky’s hand and moving into the kitchen to start helping Steve and Bucky make the pancakes.

Steve looked over at Bucky, giving his lover a quick wink and a smile. That talk had been heading in a bad direction and had ended up with a fantasy lover. Steve felt relieved they didn’t have to worry about TJ falling for either one of them.

“So, TJ,” Bucky handed ingredients to TJ so he could work with Steve on the pancakes. “Any questions about how guys have sex together?”

Blinking, TJ looked up at Bucky with wide eyes, “how . . . you mean . . . like how you ask Steve to go . . . deeper and stuff?” TJ flushed.

Steve choked back an embarrassed noise, flushing bright red.

Blinking, Bucky nodded, flushing a little. “Yeah, that’s what I mean. They won’t tell you in school about these kinds of things.”

“Where does Steve go deeper?” TJ asked, sounding curious, “you said before that I was too tiny for Mr. Harver . . . that’s why he used my mouth . . .”

“Steve puts his penis in my rectum,” Bucky said, keeping his voice calm and informative.

“But . . . you said that was too small, Buck,” TJ pointed out, looking confused as he looked up at his older brother.

“On a seven year old boy? A ten year old boy? Even a twelve year old boy? Yeah, the rectum is way too tiny. For a grown man, and one who is careful to stretch his rectum so it can take a penis . . . . it involves carefully working the rectum open. What we’re telling you, TJ, is for when you are an adult.”

“How does Steve stretch you open, Buck? So . . . so you can take his penis?” TJ looked between the two men.

Nodding, Bucky took TJ’s hand and made the boy put his thumb and forefinger into a tight circle. He then started massaging the ring of fingers, gently pushing the ring wider, slowly working two fingers in, “this way. Massage and lubricant, like vaseline.”

Watching his brother’s fingers, TJ blinked and asked, “does your vagina need to be stretched, too, Buck?”

Looking surprised, Bucky said, “I . . . uh, don’t know. We’ve never had sex that way.”

Tilting his head, TJ asked, “why not?”

Glancing at Steve very briefly then looking away, flushing deeper, Bucky said, softly, “Steve reminded me I could get pregnant if we did it that way. We . . . . felt children were not a good idea at the time. Especially if I’m trying to hide my female bits.”

“You don’t want a baby, Buck?” TJ asked, blinking his wide pale eyes up at Bucky and then looking at Steve. “Steve don’t make you feel bad for your female parts, does he?” The thin twelve year old puffed out his chest a bit, as if in challenge to Steve.

“I . . . “ Bucky dropped his eyes completely. “Steve never makes me feel bad for having both genders, baby.”

“Then, why do you look down every time you think about those parts, Buck?” TJ asked, ducking his head so he could meet his brother’s eyes. “I’ll wallop Steve with my crutches if he’s bein’ mean to you, Buck!” TJ only looked half teasing.

“Steve’s not mean to me, TJ, I promise. Just . . . I’m a man and men don’t give birth. I . . . . I don’t like having female parts because I’m a man, not a woman.” Bucky blinked, his eyes miserable.

TJ suddenly hugged his brother tightly, his crutches clattering to the floor. “I love you, Buck. I want you to love you.”

Slipping his arms around TJ, Bucky sighed softly. “I’ve hated being part woman ever since Mr. Harver put his fingers in me.”

“Don’t let ‘im keep ruling your life, Buck. You can’t let ‘im win,” TJ breathed in Bucky’s ear, knowing all too well what that vile man was capable of. “You’re beautiful and amazing and the best brother in the world.”

Nodding, Bucky whispered, “trying, TJ. I’ve started eating again.”

“I’ll keep helpin’ you eat, Buck. I’m your brother and brothers help one another. I’ll always be here for you, Buck,” TJ kissed Bucky’s cheek, hugging him tightly.

Hugging back, Bucky finally lifted his eyes to see Steve’s reaction.

Steve smiled at Bucky, expression soft and loving as he mouthed, “ _Merry Christmas_.”

Sighing, Bucky agreed with a louder voice, “Merry Christmas, Steve. Merry Christmas, Teej. Ready to cook those ingredients you’ve been mixing?” He felt embarrassed enough to try to change the subject.

**************

March 10, 1936:

Steve walked the busy streets, heading in the direction of the home he shared with his mother. He hadn’t needed to walk TJ home from school that day because TJ would be staying later with the music teacher, Mr. Conners insisting on private lessons after school, free of charge. After TJ had assured Bucky that the music instructor hadn’t done anything unwelcoming, Bucky had agreed to the lessons. Steve wanted to check on his mother before heading over to the Barnes’ apartment, Sarah Rogers still had that lingering cough and weakness that made Steve so worried . . . but every time he insisted she go to the doctor, his mother would just wave it off and say she was fine.

Shaking his head, lost in his own thoughts, Steve shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers and continued on his way, kicking a tin can with one foot.

From an alley near Bucky’s apartment building came the sound of two men talking. One snickered and agreed with the others as he claimed, “yeah, can you imagine getting that whore moaning? My God, that mouth. Those eyes.”

Frowning fiercely, Steve slowed his walked and pressed himself against the wall of the opening of the alley, listening in without being seen. That had been no way to talk about a woman! Everyone deserved respect, but Steve truly despised it when men talked so horribly about women.

“Can you just picture shoving yourself up so deep in that tight body?” The first man asked, an obvious leer in his voice. “Every move begs for a good fuck. And once I finished with his mouth, I’d ram it up and pretend it was a woman. Damn, that man is too pretty to be a man. Heard tell he wasn’t a man at all but is a woman in men’s clothes. Deserves to be fucked hard and put in her place. How old you think she was when she had that little crippled brat?”

Steve’s blood ran cold and he could hear the pulsing of his heart in his ears. They were talking about Bucky! These men were saying those awful, disrespectful things about _his_ husband! “Hey!” Steve shouted, storming into the alley, uncaring that he saw a small group of three large men in the alley. “You don’t talk about him like that!” Steve threw the first punch at the closest to him, the one who’d Steve had first heard speak.

Shock turned to anger as the first one unexpectedly took the hit to his face. He reeled, hands going to his injured eye as both his friends straightened. The beefy dark haired man reached for Steve with both hands, grabbing for the small blond while his thinner brunet friend began to circle around to block his escape from the alley.

Steve let out a roar, ducking the grab to ram his bony shoulder right into the thicker man’s abdomen. “Don’t you ever say those things about Bucky!” Steve shouted, punching the man in the side with one fist.

“What the hell?” The thicker man stumbled then slammed both hands across the back of Steve’s shoulders. “It’s the fucking little guy who hangs around the queer!”

Collapsing to his knees with the harsh blow, Steve snarled and went after the man’s legs, ignoring the throbbing of his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around the bigger man’s knees, hoping to bring him down.

“Steve?” TJ’s voice called out from the mouth of the alley, sounding worried.

“And there’s the brat,” the first man, an average built redhead, straightened and whirled towards the alleyway entrance. “Get over here, kid! You know this guy?” He sounded pissed.

Looking wary, TJ’s looked back at Steve still trying to bring the beefy man down and then snapped his wide pale eyes back at the red haired man. “That’s Stevie,” the twelve year old replied, “Bucky’s best friend.” TJ never told anyone about the truth of Steve and Bucky’s relationship.

“Yeah? Well the runt’s insane! He jumped us! Go get the police . . . or better,” the man grimaced, eyes narrowed, “get _Bucky_.”

“No, Teej!” Steve shouted, trying to elbow back to hit the skinnier man’s face as the man attempted to hold him. “Run straight home, you hear me? _Don’t_ get Bucky!” Steve feared what these men would do to Bucky if TJ brought him over.

“He’s trying to attack us all, kid!” the redhead called, still holding his face, circling around to see if he could find a better vantage point. “Get Bucky!”

TJ narrowed his eyes slightly and gripped his crutch a little tighter before bringing it hard down on the redhead’s shin. “Leave Steve alone!” TJ shouted, moving towards the pair that currently held Steve.

Shaking his head, grabbing for his bruising shin, the redhead said, “he started it! My God, kid, get the police!”

TJ didn’t listen to the redhead, approaching the other two, pushing at the beefier man’s chest, “I said, leave ‘im alone!” TJ snapped, the push almost nothing against the bigger man.

The huge brunet grabbed the tiny boy and shook him, “stop this! You, back off!” he snarled at Steve.

Watching the man shake TJ, Steve growled, “let him go and I will!” Steve brought his foot down, aiming the top of the brunet’s foot.

The more slender brunet grabbed Steve from behind and slammed him into the side of the building. He pushed up real close and snarled in his ear, “you queer? That why you mad? You want a piece of that?”

Steve roared again, angry, ignoring the blood that ran from his split brow. He struggled to get free of the man’s hold.

“Let him go!” TJ shouted, beating his fist against the man that held him, his crutches having fallen to the ground when the man shook him.

The sounds of at least two other people running into the alley came to the five brawlers and suddenly the man holding Steve was wrenched away roughly. Bucky’s editor and supervisor, Damon, pushed the man against the brick wall and held him there, one arm across the back of the man’s neck. Bucky grabbed the beefy brunet off his brother, eyes narrowed in rage as he wrenched the man’s arm so hard, the man screamed in pain.

The red-haired man seemed to think twice about the situation and threw his hands in the air to reveal no weapons, “the blond started it and the kid threw himself in! We did nothing!”

As the man let him go, TJ fell to the ground in a heap, his right leg twisting awkwardly in the brace, making the boy yelp in pain.

“That ain’t true!” Steve snarled, spitting out a mouthful of blood, eyes narrowed at the red haired man. “What you were sayin’ were threats!”

“What the hell you talkin’ about?” the man glared at Steve. “Just some pals talkin’ and you go over us like some demented whirlwind! Didn’t have anything to do with you!”

“You said those things about Bucky! They were _threats_ against him! Damn right I stepped in!” Steve’s blue eyes were lit with furious anger.

Whirling around to Steve, the red-haired man snarled, “ain’t mentioned no names. We were talking about some dame and you can’t prove otherwise!”

Growling, Steve lunged at the man again. Damon stepped in the way, taking Steve’s full force. “Enough! TJ, are you hurt?”

Wincing, his leg pinched and throbbing a bit in the brace, TJ said, “I - - I don’t know?” He grabbed for his crutches, trying to stand up.

“Where’s your dog, TJ?” Damon added, still holding the skinny brunet against the wall.

“At home. Ain’t allowed to take him to school,” TJ reported, sucking in a quick breath, trying to hide the pain on his features as he tried to straighten out his leg but the brace seemed off and pinched painfully in several places.

Bucky didn’t let the larger-set man up, but he did look over at TJ. “You’re brace looks off, Teej. Need to readjust it? Steve, keep an eye on the redhead.”

“Not lettin’ him near you or Teej, Buck,” Steve said without removing his glare from the red haired man.

“Teej, check your brace,” Bucky reiterated. “Stevie, what happened here? Why are you and TJ trying to take on three dock workers?”

“I already said, Buck!” Steve kept his glare on the man, “he was sayin’ nasty things about you, they were _threats_. I wasn’t gonna let him get away with it. Teej must’ve got outta school early, ‘cause he saw me fightin’ with them . . .”

Bucky shook his head, “what are you guys doing around here? You certainly don’t live on this block!” Bucky shook the man he held.

The redhead answered instead. “Just passing through. Not stopping. Got business elsewhere.”

“Then, why doncha move along and stay away from here?” Steve snapped, “you were waitin’ to attack him, weren’t you?”

Bucky pulled the larger man away from the wall. “You take your friends and get away from this block. I see you, my friends see you, and we’ll notify the police next time. If you have no business here, you don’t need to be stopping here.” Bucky pushed the man away from him, towards the alley entrance.

The man stumbled then glared at Bucky and spat at his feet. He grumbled, “dirty whore prancing around as a real man. We should tell the police about _you_.”

Steve growled, narrowing his eyes at the man, “get your pals and get outta here!”

Bucky rolled his eyes and reached for the redhead, who danced out of the way and headed for the alley entrance.

The man growled, “c’mon, just go. We don’t need trouble.”

Damon shoved the skinny brunet, glaring after the trio. “And I’ll alert the police to keep an eye out for you men.”

Once the men were out of sight, Steve turned to look at Bucky, “they were threatenin’ you, Buck . . .” Steve touched the split on his brow, wincing a bit.

Nodding, not questioning the statement, Bucky moved to TJ’s side and softly asked, “you check that brace yet, Teej?” He looked over to Steve, visually checking the blond’s injuries.

“The buckle’s jammed, Buck,” TJ answered, having sat back onto the dirty ground, attempting to remove the brace but some of the metal seemed to be a little twisted, making the leather straps dig into TJ’s skin.

Nodding, Bucky dropped to his knees and checked over the leg. He began working at the leather and buckle, frowning. “THis is damaged beyond repair, baby. Gonna have to cut it off.”

Eyes widening, TJ whimpered, “cut it off? But . . . that means I won’t be able to wear it again!” TJ hated going out without his brace. The brace enabled him to be able to somewhat run and walk normally.

“Teej, we’ll take it to be repaired. Until then, you can stay home. I’ll contact your teachers.” Bucky pulled out a knife he always kept on his belt to help cut open packaging twine at the newspaper. Bucky sliced through the leather of the brace, releasing TJ’s leg.

By the time they got the brace off, there were already red, angry looking welts that were beginning to bruise. TJ winced as the brace fell off the damaged, twisted limb, flushing a bit as he realized: had he just listened to Steve and gone home . . . his brace would still be okay. 

Relieved to have freed his brother from the painfully twisted brace, Bucky slid over to Steve’s side to check him, his boss kneeling to scoop up TJ in his place. “You okay, Stevie?” Bucky asked softly.

“I’m fine,” Steve sighed, wiping the blood from his hands off on his shirt which was already ruined and torn. “I think they were waitin’ for ya to get off work, Buck . . .”

“Let’s go inside and tend you and TJ. We can talk there,” Bucky said softly.

Damon, however, looked over and asked, “would you like the police? An assault and attempted burglary shouldn’t go unpunished.”

“They didn’t try to take anything and they were right . . . I threw the first punch,” Steve sighed, meeting his lover’s eyes, looking worried.

Nodding, Bucky said, “it’s okay, Damon. Thanks for helping me. And, thanks for alerting me that you saw TJ go into the alley.” Bucky stroked his brother’s hair. “I’ll get these two inside and cleaned up.”

Nodding, Damon turned to the alley entrance, carrying TJ without complaint. “Hell of a way to celebrate turning nineteen, Bucky,” the newspaper editor said, shaking his head. “You three are always lively, aren’t you?” Damon turned a smile on TJ in his arms.

“I couldn’t let ‘em beat on Stevie . . . and Stevie said not to get Bucky,” TJ shrugged slightly, cradling his crutches in his arms as Damon carried him.

“Well, I must say, you and Steve are two of the bravest guys I’ve met. This is the second time I’ve really been near you and it involved blood all over again. You are a very tough guy,” Damon chuckled low. “Fight for your rights.”

Bucky guided Steve from the alley, one arm around his shoulders in what appeared to be support, but it was, in reality, just an excuse to touch his lover, to reassure himself. “Well, Steve’s always been a firecracker. TJ seems to have picked up on that sassy spirit.”

Steve playfully shoved at Bucky’s side, not with enough force to really do much of anything, “I jus’ gotta stand up for the little guys, Buck!”

Blinking, turning a grin on his lover, Bucky asked, “am I the little guy this time?”

Flushing a bit, Steve said, “I guess so, yeah. They were gonna jump you once you left work, I’m sure of it.” The thought made Steve’s blood turn to ice. Would more men wait for Bucky to get off work? Were there really rumors going around that Bucky was a woman who dressed like a man?

Bucky stroked Steve’s cheek, using the excuse of checking his injury by lifting Steve’s chin. Very softly, so Damon missed it from in front of them, Bucky murmured, “my hero.”

Once they got to the apartment, Damon setting TJ down on the couch and saying his final goodbyes to Bucky before leaving, Steve huffed out a soft breath and said, “do you think Damon will let you start taking Luna to work with you again, Buck?”

“Okay, tell me what you overheard that spooked you, Stevie, and we’ll discuss Luna coming back to the office,” Bucky stroked his lover’s cheek carefully.

Glancing to TJ and then back to Bucky, Steve said, frowning fiercely, “they were gonna gang up on you, Buck. I don’t know if they _really_ knew or were jus’ being cruel . . . but, they said there were . . . tells that you ain’t a man. They wanted . . . Buck, they were gonna rape you.” Steve met Bucky’s eyes, his own worried and angry.

Blinking, Bucky said, “they wanted to rape me? They . . . they think I’m a woman?” He couldn’t believe that three men he had never met would want to target him specifically. “They _know_?”

“Like I said, I’m not sure. How could they, ya know? But . . . they even went as far as saying how young you were when you . . . you had the _cripple_ ,” Steve flushed a bit, glancing at TJ and then back to Bucky. “I don’t know how they knew you or . . . or if they really know but they were intent on hurting you . . . on raping you.”

Sinking to a chair, Bucky asked, “what? _Rape_ me . . . they . . . they think I’m TJ’s _mother_?”

“They could’ve said it to be cruel, Buck . . . I don’t know . . . but they said they wanted to show you your place. Bucky, I’m terrified for you,” Steve reached out to brush his bruised fingers against Bucky’s cheek, “they said that TJ was your son and that you deserved to be fucked hard. That’s why I went after them. They were gonna hurt you.”

Hugging himself suddenly, Bucky whispered, “they really wanted to rape me? Thought I was a woman in disguise?” He shuddered. The idea of getting arrested for being a woman in disguise didn’t bother him half as much as the idea of being raped to _put him in his place_. He lifted pale blue eyes to meet Steve’s vivid blue. “Should I call the police?”

“That’s up to you,” Steve replied, stroking Bucky’s cheek. “Do you think you should?”

Nodding, Bucky said, “we can ask for the same detective who took care of Harver?” Bucky licked his lips, the tip of his tongue dipping out to moisten plush lips. “He’s familiar with me.”

“Okay, Buck,” Steve nodded, not arguing with Bucky over wanting to call the police.

Suddenly, Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and pulled him close, though the brunet didn’t stand up from the seat he was in. “Steve . . . why? Why me?”

Sighing softly, Steve ran his fingers through Bucky’s hair and said, “I don’t know, Buck, but I’d feel better if you could take Luna with you when you go to work?”

Nodding, Bucky agreed softly, “Damon never said I couldn’t bring Luna. I just stopped. I’ll bring him from now on. You don’t think Teej’s in trouble? That he’ll get attacked again?” He hugged closely.

“I don’t think so?” Steve answered, glancing at TJ, who remained silently watching everything, and then back to Bucky.

Relief washed over Bucky and he hugged Steve again. Softly, he called out, “Teej? You okay, baby?”

“I’m okay, Buck,” TJ answered, worried about his brother’s safety more than his injured leg at the moment.

“I’ll get the brace downstairs to Mrs. O’Reilly’s nephew tomorrow. He should be able to fix it up quickly.” Bucky turned his head to lean his cheek on Steve’s abdomen, watching his brother. He made no move to actually call the police, seeming content in Steve’s embrace.

“Okay, Buck . . . that’s good . . .” TJ replied, frowning softly as he thought over everything Bucky and Steve had talked about.

“Steve, do you think they knew where Teej and I live? They were in the alley just outside,” Bucky whispered as the thought came to him.

“I really don’t know, Bucky . . .” Steve carded his fingers through Bucky’s hair, frowning in concern.

After a moment, Bucky said, “should I ask for the police?”

“Bucky, this is a decision I can’t make for you,” Steve said softly, dropping a kiss to the top of his lover’s head.

Lifting his head, BUcky said, “of course you can. You were the witness who fought them, heard them,” Bucky pulled away. “You’ve got to have some opinion, Steve.” He stood and made his way back to TJ to look him over, checking on the twisted leg. “Do you think we need the police? Or a doctor?”

“I’m ‘kay, Buck,” TJ said softly, looking down at the swollen welts running up his right leg from where the metal had pinched skin.

“It depends,” Steve sighed softly, running his fingers through his hair, “do you feel safe in your home?”

Straightening, Bucky looked over to Steve and said, “hearing that three men in the alley just beyond my window were plotting to rape me? No, Steve, I don’t feel safe _outside_ my home suddenly.”

“Then, you answered your own question,” Stee pointed out, meeting Bucky’s eyes, “yes, you should call the police.”

Crossing his arms in a self-protective hug, Bucky siad, “Steve, how come whenever I ask for your personal opinion, you treat it like some sort of . . . .oh, I don’t know,” Bucky threw his hands in the air. “But you never give me _your_ opinion.” He shook his head and walked over to the phone, picking it up and asking for the local police. After explaining he needed a detective, and naming the man he wanted, Bucky gave his address and hung up. “I ask what _you_ think, and it’s always _‘whatever you think, Buck,’_ as if you don’t have a right to an opinion that might clash with mine.”

Blinking in shock, mouth dropped open slightly as Bucky’s words hit him, Steve frowned softly and shook his head, “I give you my opinion all the time? It’s just with this specific case, my opinion isn’t what matters? It’s your safety, TJ’s safety. I want you safe and comfortable. _That’s_ my opinion.” Steve shook his head again.

“I don’t want to feel like some kind of dictator in our relationship, Steve. I want your opinions because they matter to me,” Bucky softened his tone and voice, dropping his eyes but hugging himself.

“Jesus, Buck!” Steve threw his own hands in the air as he let out a huff of breath, “ A dictator? You act like you make every single decision in this relationship and I act like some whipped dog. I didn’t think that was our relationship.”

Wincing, Bucky shook his head and turned, without further comment, heading for the bedroom. He walked into the small room and quietly shut the door.

Steve called out, loud enough for Bucky to hear, “I have to check on Mama! Be back later!” 

Calling back, through the door, sounding muffled, Bucky said, “be careful. And tell her I’ll see her tomorrow. I’m busy with the police tonight, unless you don’t want her to know.” Bucky sounded normal, but muffled, as if behind more than the door.

“Sure,” Steve replied, shoving his hands in his pockets as he left the small apartment, the door shutting soundly behind him.


	11. Learning to Love Himself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Reference Abuse, Fear, Post Traumatic, Self-Doubt, Anxiety, Reference Child Abuse, Death, Vaginal Sex**

March 10, 1936: 

TJ blinked his naturally wide eyes, looking down at Luna, who looked just as confused and worried with all the tension and raised voices. TJ frowned softly, grabbing his crutches and heaving himself off the couch, wincing as he moved his right leg. Without the brace, TJ had to drag his right leg a bit, unable to put much weight on it, but TJ was determined to make Bucky some dinner. He didn’t want Bucky’s birthday to be ruined. 

Grabbing a pot and putting it on the stove, TJ used a single cup of water to fill it up, having to make several trips back and forth from faucet to pot. After he’d filled it enough, TJ started the burner and began cutting up some potatoes. He leaned against the counter to keep his balance, using both hands for this particular task. 

The bedroom door opened and Bucky had changed from his work clothes into a soft shirt and loose trousers, bare footed. He seemed unhappy, moving towards the living area. Picking up TJ’s brace, Bucky said, “I’ll be right back up, Teej. If the police arrive, you can tell them what happened. You know better than I do, since I only came in at the end.”

“Where are you goin’?” TJ called, focusing on the knife in his hands as he started chopping some carrots and onions before moving onto the piece of beef they’d splurged on for Bucky’s birthday.  
Blinking, Bucky answered, “to bring your brace down for repair, like I promised earlier?” Studying his brother, Bucky asked, “why aren’t you sitting down to do that. The knife might slip while you try to balance, baby.”

“You said you’d do that tomorrow,” TJ pointed out. 

Sighing, Bucky stopped walking and said, “would you rather me do it tomorrow? It’s only just walking downstairs.”

“Don’t even got shoes on, Buck,” TJ jutted his chin towards Bucky’s bare feet as he turned and hobbled towards a chair, struggling to push it on his own, but the twelve year old managed. He sank into the wooden chair and continued cubing up the slab of beef. 

Bucky sighed and put the brace down. “Okay, I’ll do it tomorrow. No problem.” He stood for a moment, as if lost for what to do with himself. Finally, he asked, “is that beef?”

“Yup. Remember? You bought it for tonight. I’m cookin’ some potatoes and gonna heat up the beef with some onions and carrots. We also have that loaf of bread . . . make a real good meal,” TJ replied, holding off on starting to cook the beef, carrots, and onions since the potatoes had only just gone into the water.

“Sounds great, actually,” Bucky commented further. He looked restless and a bit lost as to what to do with himself. Walking around the living area, Bucky began to straighten things up until a knock on the door sent him hurrying to check then open the door to the police detective. He studied the man a moment before saying, “I’m not sure what to tell you, Sir. I came at the tail end, but my friend and TJ were in a fight with three men I didn’t know and hadn’t seen before. I jumped in and got things ended, the men ran off. Thing is, my friend said they’d threatened _me_ , but . . .” Bucky looked towards the door, “his Momma’s sick so he had to go check on her.”

“Okay, Mr. Barnes . . .” the police man frowned softly, looking Bucky up and down, “and you want me to find these men and arrest them . . . for threatening you, right?”

Bucky suddenly began shaking pretty bad and his legs gave out. He sank to the floor and curled up, looking terrified. “They wanted to rape me . . . thought I’m a woman in disguise . . .”

“Rape you? That’s a pretty big accusation, Mr. Barnes,” the officer said, glancing towards the small kitchen area and then back down at Bucky on the floor. “You sayin’ they were waiting to attack you and rape you?”

“They were in the alley just between us and the next home over,” Bucky blindly gestured with his chin, hugging himself. “I came upon them beating on Steve and TJ. They’d already damaged his brace and injured his leg. And Steve said they had planned on raping me after work.”

“Your little brother involved again,” the officer sighed, running a hand down his tired-looking face. 

“My brother is a victim!” Bucky suddenly turned narrowed eyes on the cop, his entire body trembling. “And I don’t know why I bothered to call. A big strong man like me, who’d want to try to rape me? Who’d think I was some dame in hiding? Not like Mr. Harver hadn’t thought the same damn thing when I was a kid, right?” Bucky pushed up from the floor.

“Did I say otherwise? I just asked if your brother was involved, Mr. Barnes. Your brother has a history of being . . . _involved_ with these type of men,” the officer pointed out with a fierce frown, dark eyes watching Bucky intently.

“Involved? My God, as if he hung around them and associated with them? TJ was coming home from school and they were in the alley beating on Steve! I . . . . if TJ’s going to be maligned when he’s a good samaritan turned victim, I don’t know why I even tried!” Bucky grabbed the damaged brace and showed it to the cop. “See? Injured, look . . .” Bucky gestured to TJ and his injured leg.

“Mr. Barnes, please,” the officer sighed heavily, glancing at the brace and then TJ’s leg before meeting Bucky’s eyes once more. “Calm down. I understand you’re frightened. But you need to take some deep breaths.”

Lowering the brace, Bucky trembled as he tried to obey the cop, breathing sort of deeply. He kept watching the man through confused, scared eyes. “They were right outside my home, right across from my place of work . . .”

Sighing, the officer nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose before letting the hand fall down to his side. “I can try to have them booked on assault . . . and attempted assault. But, they might say your friend or brother attacked first and they were just defending themselves.”

Blinking, Bucky shook his head, “I only wanted to give you descriptions and ask if it was possible a regular patrol could come through once a day or so to spook them off from trying anything.” Bucky hugged himself. “I know how this would go in court, Officer. I’d lose and be laughed at behind my back. Deranged.”

“Okay . . . I can try to set up patrols,” the officer nodded, looking up at Bucky and watching him.

Bucky seemed on the verge of crying or running and hiding, obviously very affected by the incident. He hugged himself as he described each of the three men. Finally, he fell silent and bowed his head, entire body trembling violently from having re-lived the incident, at least in his head while giving the descriptions. “I think they worked on the docks, judging by their clothing.”

“Alright, I’ll give the descriptions out to my fellow officers and we can see if we can locate them. I’ll try to do the patrol, as well,” the officer nodded.

“Thank you, Officer,” Bucky said softly, “for your efforts and the efforts of the force. I appreciate it.” He looked towards the kitchen area.

Nodding once, the officer said, “I’ll see myself out then,” before turning and leaving the small apartment building.

Nodding, Bucky took the man at his word and didn’t move from his spot, still hugging himself self-protectively. Once the door shut with a soft click, Bucky collapsed to a sitting position on the floor, bowed his head, and let the tears of fright and memory roll down his cheeks. All he could think about was those three men doing to him what Mr. Harver did or worse. He felt far from safe.

“Buck?” TJ called, hobbling into the living room, the odd sound of his foot dragging instead of the metal brace coming to Bucky.

“Yeah, Teej?” Bucky answered in a soft, rasping voice, eyes closed and head bowed, body trembling.

“Do . . . do you not want dinner? I can put it in the icebox . . .” TJ offered, worrying at his bottom lip.

“I’m sorry, baby. I don’t think I’m very hungry tonight. Might wanna put the meat away before it goes bad,” Bucky didn’t look up, trying his best not to throw up now food was entered into the mix.

Letting out a breath, TJ nodded and turned back into the kitchen to start putting away the meal he’d made for Bucky’s birthday dinner. 

“Such a good, loving brother,” Bucky rasped then fell silent again.

TJ didn’t reply, instead focused on cleaning the kitchen of any mess. He didn’t even make himself a plate before he moved back into the living room. “Did one of those men hurt ya, Buck?” 

Shaking his head, Bucky whispered, “no. I . . . I just can’t get outta my head. I keep _feeling_ Mr. Harver’s fingers inside me and . . .” Bucky threw himself from the floor towards the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before puking.

TJ sighed heavily again, looking tired and lost over what to do, how he could help his brother. Bucky had been so deeply traumatized by what Mr. Harver had done, more so than TJ had been with his own attack, that TJ didn’t know how to help. TJ had a few rough nights and a few nightmares every now and again . . . but, TJ had moved on with his life . . . Bucky seemed to have a lot harder time doing so.

“Buck?” TJ called softly, standing in the doorway of the small bathroom.

Leaning his head on the toilet seat, Bucky asked, sounding exhausted and sick, “yeah, baby?”

“Maybe ya need to see a doctor?” TJ suggested softly, watching his older brother with a small frown.

“What’s a doctor going to do for me, baby? I’ve been eating. You and Steve both know I have.” Bucky sounded too exhausted to really care about the eating disorder.

“Still not enough and you puke it up most of the time but . . . you’re just . . . you’re scared, Buck, all the time. What Mr. Harver did to you, it was awful and sick . . . but, you can’t just let him continue to rule over you. You’re better than him,” TJ said, running his teeth over his bottom lip.

Slowly lifting his head, eyes bloodshot and swollen, face blotchy from crying and puking, Bucky said, slowly, “you think I’m freaking out about Mr. Harver? That I should _get over it_ and just live my life, huh?”

Flinching, TJ dropped his eyes and shrugged his shoulders.

“Those three strangers threatening to do the same and worse shouldn’t bother me? Or that maybe somehow we’ll find a doctor that agrees to listen to me and do what? Medicate me for sick fantasies I don’t really have? Put me away in an asylum to _recover_?” Bucky looked confused and slightly lost, desperate.

“I - - I’m sorry, it was a stupid idea,” TJ murmured, turning to head back into the living room. 

“No, not stupid. Might be worth a try. Maybe some doctor we don’t know about can help me, and I just don’t know how yet.” Bucky turned and leaned his back against the toilet, watching the empty door. “Or . . . I guess never mind after all? The story of my life. I try to understand things and see what others think and . . . nevermind.” He buried his face in his arms, resting on his bent knees.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Buck?” TJ said, turning so he could look into the bathroom again.

“Maybe a discussion of merits and drawbacks?” Bucky asked, lifting his head a little. “Maybe a reason to think I’m not insane just because I’m getting more and more afraid to leave the apartment?”

Sighing, TJ leaned up against the doorjamb, taking weight off his injured limb. “You say this isn’t about Mr. Harver, but it is. Everything stems from that asshole. You changed after what he did to you. You lost a part of yourself and you never got it back. You don’t eat. And the little that you do, you throw up. Steve and I try to . . .”

Very softly, Bucky revealed something he’d never even told his father after the original assault, “he . . . said . . . he likes . . . plump girls . . .” Bucky buried his face in his arms again, sobbing.

“Plump . . . so, you don’t eat because you don’t want to be attractive to men like Mr. Harver?” TJ asked, confused.

Nodding in his arms, Bucky shuddered.

“Bucky, you weren’t _plump_! You’ve never been plump! And . . . I’m happy to tell you that you won’t ever attract a man like Mr. Harver. You wanna know why?” TJ asked.

Bucky lifted his face, breath hitching slightly on a repressed sob.

“Because, Bucky, you’re a man now. Men like Mr. Harver, they don’t go after _men_ or even women! Men like Mr. Harver like to hurt _kids_. You certainly ain’t a kid anymore, Buck. So, you’ll never attract someone like Mr. Harver again.”

“But somehow I managed to attract three men who want to rape me, now. I swear, I’m not luring them in! I’m not trying to get them to notice me.” Bucky shuddered.

“Of course you aren’t. You walk around like you’d rather the sidewalk open up from under you and swallow you whole,” TJ pointed out with a huff. “You lost any and all confidence you had in yourself, Buck. Steve and I have tried, desperately, to get an ounce of it back . . . we’ve tried for years . . . but, nothing we do or say changes anything.”

Nodding, Bucky dropped his face back into his arms and mumbled, “you’re right. I need a doctor.”

“I don’t know what you need, Buck, but it ain’t what you’re getting now,” TJ let out a shaky breath.

Bucky let out a single shudder then seemed to calm down enough to rise, a bit shakily, to his feet. “I’ll find someone to help me. I . . . I’m sorry I’ve done this to you guys.” He walked into the bedroom and began pulling off the loose shirt.

“Done this to us?” TJ’s brows furrowed, moving to follow his brother, his right leg dragging behind him, irritating the welts even more. “What are you on about, now, Buck?”

“I’ve been like this for years, a scared shadow. I can’t eat or anything. I’m sick, need help. I get it now. Sorry it took forever to get through my thick skull.” Bucky began unwinding the material from around his chest.

“Jesus, Buck!” TJ groaned, leaning against the doorway once more, “I don’t . . . I don’t know what you want from me. What you want for me to say.”

Glancing up, Bucky frowned again. “And I don’t know what _you_ want, Teej. I just realized that I have a bigger problem than I can handle. Something you both have been trying to work with me on. I hear what you’re saying and finally understand. What more can I do?”

“I don’t know . . .” TJ sighed and shook his head, “we got it all figured out then. That’s . . . good.”

“Yeah, not easy, but good, I guess,” Bucky sighed and put the binding in the pile of dirty clothes, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on again. “I start looking for a doctor who can maybe help with my fear and stuff. Easy as that, I guess.”

“Birthdays should just be wiped off the calender forever,” TJ murmured, mostly to himself. He looked up at Bucky and nodded once, “sure, Buck. I can help if you want?”

Tilting his head, offering a small smile, Bucky said, “maybe I should have you meet the doctors so you can tell me if they’re quacks or the real deal?” He put out an effort to try to turn the conversation light-hearted.

“Don’t know how I’d be able to tell but, sure, I’ll do whatever you want, Buck,” TJ nodded.

Softly, glancing towards the lone window of the bedroom, Bucky asked, “think Steve’s gonna come back tonight?”

Sighing, TJ shrugged his shoulders, “said he would.” TJ loved Steve and couldn’t imagine his brother with anyone else. But, sometimes, it felt like all Bucky wanted to do was be with Steve, and TJ just was left feeling like the odd man out, that he didn’t really belong in the apartment.

Blinking slowly, Bucky walked over to his window and looked out onto the street. He flushed and turned his back to the view. “Teej?” his voice sounded choked. “Teej, find me something to cover the window with?” Bucky hurried to begin looking for something.

“What?” TJ blinked in surprise.

“I’m an idiot,” Bucky answered. “That window looks right out on the street and we don’t have anything covering it. Anyone could look up and see me changing . . . or me and Steve together.”

“Oh . . . we got some newspapers, think that’ll work?” TJ offered.

“Yeah, that’d be perfect, baby,” Bucky said, “tell me where?” he hurried carefully past his brother to find the newspapers.

“By the chair Steve likes to sit in and draw,” TJ answered, turning to watch his brother.

Bucky found the newspapers and a bowl of water. He grabbed flour, as well, and mixed some in the bowl of water. He began ripping the newspaper into strips then hurried back to his bedroom window. “Hate to block the light but . . .” Bucky began dipping the strips in the glue-like water, ringing them out, then pasting them to the window. He worked for over an hour until the window had been covered in a sort of plaster from the gummy newspapers.

After that hour had passed, the door opened and Steve called, “Buck? TJ?”

TJ glanced over his shoulder and said, “he’s in here. I’ll get outta your hair,” he hobbled out of the way and towards his couch.

“You’re never in my hair!” Bucky shot back, sounding much recovered from earlier. “And you’re a genius!”

The twelve year old didn’t reply: instead TJ sank onto the couch and lay down, wincing as he brought his leg up onto the surface. Luna settled faithfully on the floor beside his master’s couch.

Steve glanced in the direction of TJ and then back at Bucky. The blond’s injures had been patched up and Steve wore a fresh shirt. 

Calling out to his lover, sounding preoccupied but relatively calm and normal, Bucky said, “TJ made a wonderful pot roast, Steve, but we didn’t have any appetites earlier.”

“And you have appetites now?” Steve asked, walking into the bedroom and blinking at the sight of Bucky covering up the window. “You’re covering the window?”

“I do, don’t know if Teej does. He’s been trying to get through my thick skull what’s been bothering you two about me. I think I finally get it. I’ve got to find a doctor to help me sort through my fears and get rid of the unreasonable ones. And, yeah,” Bucky turned, smudges of flour glue and newspaper print on his face, hands, and shirt, “so no one can see into our room anymore.”

“That’s a good idea,” Steve nodded, looking towards the window and then back at Bucky, “you might wanna wash up before dinner, Buck,” Steve laughed softly.

“Can you check on Teej and his leg? He’s been real good by keeping on it while keeping my company. I think he’s worn himself out and might need some of the aspirin we have.” Bucky offered a small smile and headed to the bathroom to clean up.

Once Bucky had finished cleaning and come out of the bathroom, Steve reported, “TJ’s asleep . . . didn’t really want to wake him? The welts sure look nasty though.”

“Poor kid’s worn himself out. I’ll put some aspirin and water on the table near to hand for when he does wake up.” Bucky walked over to TJ’s side and frowned. “Maybe we have some salve? Should have thought of it earlier.”

Nodding, Steve walked into the bathroom and a moment later came back out with a small jar, “this what you’re lookin’ for, Buck?” Steve handed it over, keeping his voice quiet to avoid waking TJ.

Offering a smile, Bucky took the jar and said, “yeah, perfect. Thanks, Steve.” He sank to the floor beside TJ’s couch and began carefully treating the welts on the injured leg. “He’s a tough guy, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” Steve nodded, giving Bucky a small smile, “instead of running away like most anyone would’ve done, run to get the police . . . TJ stayed and helped me.”

With a sigh and a frown, Bucky said, “and the officer didn’t hesitate to point that out and try to throw the blame on TJ, as if he was a violent hoodlum. I think he was more bothered by TJ being involved than the fact that three sailors were running around threatening to rape men in the neighborhood.”

Looking worried and angry, Steve frowned and glanced at TJ’s sleeping face and then back to Bucky, “the officer ain’t gonna arrest TJ, right?”

“No, I diverted him to passing on the descriptions to his fellows and doing possible patrols. But can you imagine? Turning this entire thing around as if any of us asked to get beaten on or threatened or worse? My God, the country ain’t safe anymore, Stevie! I’m losing my faith in the police force, I’ll tell you that. Didn’t help back then and less than useless now.”

“I mean . . . they did arrest Mr. Harver?” Steve pointed out, though the blond didn’t sound like he believed his words very much.

“Once someone, TJ I might add, bit his dick and they couldn’t point to the victim and say it was his or her fault,” Bucky growled. “If they’d try to pin an assault on TJ, I’d have raised the roof. That, and the newspaper was involved, so the officer had to think carefully about image, didn’t he?” Finishing up with TJ’s leg, Bucky rose to his feet and headed into the kitchen to clean up.

Sighing, Steve nodded, running his fingers through his hair, “that officer seems to really have it out for Teej, though.”

“Yeah, I thought he’d be helpful since he knew about the other attacks, but I think that was a bad choice. I don’t think involving the police is a good idea. Teej didn’t do anything wrong.” Bucky dried his hands, frowning fiercely. “TJ says I need a doctor for my . . . fears.”

“A doctor for your . . . fears?” Steve tilted his head and watched Bucky closely. “Do they even have such a thing?”

“Only at the asylums,” Bucky sighed, “but he’s twelve and wouldn’t know that. He also wouldn’t know that going to an asylum is tantamount to a death sentence.” The brunet lifted worried pale blue eyes.

“Don’t mean we can’t try to fix some of your fears, though, on our own. Sort through them, ya know?” Steve suggested.

Nodding, Bucky said, “I’m afraid that more guys like Mr. Harver will attack me, but worse, that they’ll attack TJ. He’s so very pretty, Stevie!”

“So, which is the bigger fear, Buck? That you’ll get attacked or that TJ will?” Steve asked softly, meeting Bucky’s eyes.

Swallowing, Bucky said, “that someone will see me and move in then notice TJ and attack _him_? That I’ll draw them to TJ accidentally?” He shook his head. “Vain and stupid . . .”

“I don’t think it’s vain or stupid. It’s a valid fear, Buck. After all, those guys from the docks didn’t just decide to wait outside your apartment and work just for the hell of it. They knew who you were and planned the attack,” Steve pointed out, reaching out to stroke Bucky’s wrist, “and by them being here, they were closer to TJ and might see him as the easier target.”

A shudder ran over Bucky’s entire form and he hugged himself hard. “I can’t let anyone hurt Teej, Stevie!”

“For one, I pity the poor bastard that tries to hurt TJ. TJ will knock ‘im on his ass. He’s done it once, already,” Steve reached out further so his fingers brushed against Bucky’s forearm, “nothing is going to happen to TJ, Buck.”

“Teej says I’m different. Scared and . . . unable to eat. That I’m not the same.” Bucky swallowed.

“The same as what?” Steve asked, tilting his head.

“ _Before_ that time when I was about fourteen?” Bucky dropped his voice to a whisper.

“Well, of course you’re not the same! Is TJ the same as when he was five or am I the same as when I was nine?” Steve asked, shaking his head with a fond smile, “TJ’s being a bit dramatic, Buck. He’s almost thirteen, he _has_ to be dramatic.”

“I . . . I just don’t want to be a burden or anything. I love you both so much,” Bucky dropped to a whisper, eyes worried.

“You’d never be a burden to either of us, Buck,” Steve assured his lover, “we both love you so much.”

Bucky launched himself at Steve, hugging the younger man tightly. “I get so overwhelmed at times, it seems to want to drown me in doubt.”

“Well, just know I’ll always be here to help you find your way, Buck,” Steve kissed Bucky’s lips gently, smiling softly.

Bucky cupped Steve’s face and touched foreheads. Softly, he said, “I get to fearing then doubting, and things get overwhelming. Something tells me to just end it all, all the misery and stuff, but then I wonder where the hell that damn voice came from, you know?”

Eyes widening, Steve frowned and leaned forward, tracing his lips over Bucky’s, “I _love_ you. TJ _loves_ you. We’ll get through this, okay? Even if we have to handle it ourselves. We’ll handle it.”

Bucky clasped Steve’s head carefully and touched foreheads. “I love you both so much, Stevie. I don’t want to die . . .”

**************

October 15, 1936:

There was a very soft knock on Bucky and TJ’s apartment door, the sound barely loud enough for TJ to hear on the couch where he worked on some compositions for his class. “Were ya expectin’ someone, Buck?” TJ called to his brother in the bedroom. The thirteen year old was already reaching for his crutches. Luna sat up, watching the door with a slightly tilted head and perked ears.

“Unless it’s Steve? Nope.” Bucky rose to his feet and crossed to the front door. “Who is it, please?” he asked through the barrier.

“Buck?” Steve’s voice rasped, sounding uneven and rough, almost like he did after an asthma attack.

“Steve?” Bucky glanced over to his brother then turned to unlock and open the front door. “Steve? Sound like you’re not well.” He opened the barrier and looked over his lover, frowning softly. “You okay, doll?”

Sobbing, Steve shook his head and launched himself into Bucky’s arms, uncaring that anyone in the hall could see the embrace. Steve ducked his head into Bucky’s shoulder and whimpered, “she - - she’s gone . . .”

“Gone?” Bucky blinked and tried to puzzle Steve’s cryptic remark out. Slowly, he asked, “your Momma, doll?” He pulled Steve into the apartment and shut the door behind them. “Steve?” Bucky ran his hands up and down Steve’s arms.

“I - - I went to check on here af - - after school and . . . and sh - - she’d died wh - - while . . . she was all alone, Buck!” Steve continued to sob, his breath hitching in the back of his throat, his lungs rattling with every attempted breath.

“Oh, Stevie,” Bucky murmured, holding his lover tight, nuzzling at his neck and stroking his blond hair. “Oh, Steve . . .”

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone to school! I - - I . . . but she insisted! I shouldn’t have le - - left her!” Steve clung onto Bucky tightly, his thin body trembling violently. “I - - I should’ve spent m - - more time with h - - her!”

Bucky didn’t know what to say to help Steve feel better. Losing a parent, as he knew himself, was horrible and traumatic. Rather than trying to point out that Sarah wanted Steve to spend time outside of her presence, Bucky hugged his lover tight and kissed the top of his head, rocking very gently.

“Wh . . . what am I gonna do now, Buck?” Steve whimpered, his breathing still uneven and shaky, his fingers clutching desperately at his lover’s shirt.

“I love you, Steve. Teej loves you. You stay here with us. We’re still your family.” Bucky kissed Steve’s temple.

Steve didn’t say anything for several long moments, his wheezing the only noise in the room, before, finally, he nodded slowly, “yeah . . . okay . . .”

Luna moved from his position next to TJ and walked up to the crying human, often like dogs did, Luna whimpered and gently scratched at Steve’s pant leg in an attempt to get the thin eighteen year old to feel better.

Bucky looked over at the couch and raised his voice, “Teej, baby, do we want Steve to move in?”

“Thought he pretty much was,” TJ called back, though his voice was laden with grief and sympathy for Steve. The thirteen year old’s voice had started to change a bit, becoming a little deeper as his body went through the changes his brother had warned him about.

Bucky gently guided Steve to TJ’s couch. “You’re our family. Stevie. You can stay here forever.”

Once they’d sat down, Steve curled up against Bucky’s side and whimpered, “I have to sell the apartment . . . and go - - go through everything . . . oh, God . . . I have to plan the _funeral_!”

Nodding, Bucky stroked his lover’s hair and cheek. “Let me help, doll?” he offered softly.

Swallowing thickly, Steve murmured softly, “you don’t have to . . . I can - - I can do it on my own, Buck . . .” Steve remained curled up against Bucky’s side.

Shaking his head and lifting Steve’s chin with a strong, gentle finger, Bucky said, “yeah, but you don’t _have_ to do it alone, Stevie.”

**************

January 7, 1937:

Steve shut the door to his and Bucky’s bedroom softly behind him. He wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck and started kissing his lover once more. “Think ya can be quiet enough not to wake Teej up, sweetheart?” Steve purred against Bucky’s lips, his own pulled into a smirk. 

Chuckling, leaning into his husband, Bucky said, “you got plans that might make me loud, doll?”

“Ain’t my fault you’re noisy,” Steve nipped at Bucky’s bottom lip, walking him backwards until the back of Bucky’s knees hit their bed. He gave Bucky a very gentle push so he fell back onto the mattress, Steve following him down. 

“Doll, it’s _all_ your fault I can’t be quiet.” Bucky nipped at Steve’s plush lower lip. “I’d happily scream for you if I was allowed. You make me so hot and happy.” He canted his hips up, despite their clothing.

“God, wouldn’t that be amazing? Live in a world where I could make ya scream and not hafta worry about neighbors?” Steve kissed Bucky’s lips again, tugging gently as his callused fingers started to unbutton Bucky’s shirt. Steve worked freelance jobs, painting signs and other various things for businesses, sometimes even getting a comic published in the newspaper.

Grinning, Bucky tugged at Steve’s shirt, freeing it from his waistband. Running his hands up under the cloth, against his lover’s warm skin, Bucky purred out, “wanna scream for you. Someday.”

“Someday,” Steve agreed with a soft groan, “maybe one day we can have a farm of our own, with no neighbors to worry about.” Steve moved his lips down to nip at Bucky’s neck.

“You, me, and Teej?” Bucky asked softly, nuzzling at Steve’s neck and tweaking his nipples. He nipped the flesh at the top of Steve’s shoulder then soothed it with a gentle lap from his tongue.

“Always, and any lover that Teej finds,” Steve agreed with a nod, letting Bucky’s shirt fall open to reveal his breasts. Steve brought one hand up to massage one breast, caressing the swelling nipple. “Always so pretty for me, Buck,” Steve praised softly, never tiring of telling Bucky how beautiful he was. Steve’s other hand started to unbuckle Bucky’s belt and unbutton his trousers.

Arching his back, thrusting his breast into Steve’s calloused hand, Bucky moaned softly. “Make me feel beautiful, doll. Love how you touch me.”

Steve smiled, leaning down to suck Bucky’s other nipple into his mouth, still caressing the other one in his hand. Steve second hand moved into Bucky’s now opened trousers to stroke over his cock, his mouth sucking and lapping at Bucky’s nipple.

Mewling, Bucky canted his hips up again and reached down to stroke at Steve’s hair, tugging very lightly at the short tresses. “Love you, Stevie. My husband . . . so pretty . . .”

Steve popped his mouth off of Bucky’s nipple to kiss his lips, using that time to start easing Bucky’s trousers and underwear off his hips. “I love you, too, Buck, so much.” He quickly stripped Bucky of the rest of his clothes before removing his own as well. “You’re everything to me.”

“Stevie . . .” Bucky ran his hands over Steve’s chest then abdomen. “Stevie . . . wanna . . . wanna love you, doll . . .” He wriggled under Steve’s lesser bulk, enjoying the feel of his lover on top of him, weighing him down.

“I gotcha, Buck,” Steve nodded, leaning over to reach over to grab the vaseline off the table next to the bed. He coated his fingers and moved them down to begin massaging the fingers around Bucky’s rim. Despite the few years they’d been physically intimate, Steve had never been inside Bucky vaginally. Ever since that first time when Steve had warned Bucky that he could possibly get pregnant that way, Bucky hadn’t brought it back up so Steve always assumed he wanted to keep it the way it was.

Lifting his legs, wrapping his legs around Steve’s hip, Bucky shifted so his cock rubbed against Steve’s. “God, feel so good, doll. Want you in me so bad.” Bucky’s vagina was lubricating readily enough, despite Bucky never asking Steve for vaginal sex since that first time. He figured Steve didn’t want to risk anything, and Bucky could understand that - - but more and more, he didn’t care. He actually wouldn’t have minded getting pregnant with Steve’s infant most of the time.

“This what you want, sweetheart?” Steve purred, dipping his finger in to breach Bucky’s passage, stretching it. “This what you need?”

“Want you so much, Steve . . . any way you want me, I’ll do. Just want you,” Bucky murmured back, nuzzling at Steve’s temple. “Want you inside me so deep.”

“Deep, huh?” Steve smiled, kissing Bucky’s lips. After a few moments, Steve started to ease in a second finger, scissoring them carefully. By then, Steve knew just how long it took to open Bucky up for him. Suddenly, Steve got an idea and slowly, brought his other hand to stroke over Bucky’s womanly parts, wondering if they’d bring Bucky pleasure as well.

Gasping, hips bucking up as he felt the electric jolt over his clitoris, Bucky fell into a moan. “Yes . . . right there . . . feels good, doll . . .”

Brows raising as a smile crossed his features, Steve put a bit more pressure onto Bucky’s clitoris, rubbing in slow circles, “like that, Buck? That feel good?”

Mewling, Bucky nodded, “God, yes, Stevie. That’s great. Please? More . . .” Bucky reached down to grasp Steve’s hand, guiding the blond’s fingers so he could stroke both clitoris and the opening. “More . . . Steve, need you . . .”

“You . . . Bucky, you want me to stroke inside you . . . there?” Steve just wanted to be sure this was what Bucky wanted. Bucky had never let Steve know that he’d wanted Steve to touch him there. His fingers stroked around the opening, feeling the wetness of Bucky’s arousal on his fingers, stirring something low in Steve’s gut, a pleasure he hadn’t let himself feel since Bucky seemed to hate this part of himself so much.

Nodding, Bucky said, “in me . . .” his voice sounded breathless, anticipation thrumming through him. Blinking open his eyes, however, Bucky froze and added, softly, “if you want . . . you don’t have to if you don’t like . . .”

Biting at his plush bottom lip, Steve nodded and positioned himself better, letting his fingers slip from Bucky’s ass. He leaned down and carefully lapped at Bucky’s core, tasting his lover in a way he never had before, all at the same time his fingers started rubbing Bucky’s clitoris in that same slow, experimental circle once more. Steve found he really loved the taste of his lover, he loved how Bucky’s muscles quivered under his tongue.

Whimpering and mewling at the new sensations, Bucky breathed out a low moan. “Steve!” his hips canted and forced Steve’s tongue depper, his finger to press harder. Wonder crossed Bucky’s face and he whispered, “what you do to me . . .”

Spurred on by Bucky’s reactions, Steve rubbed harder, faster, his tongue pushing deeper. He wanted to make Bucky feel good, Bucky deserved to feel good. His other hand reached up and stroked Bucky’s sac, giving it a gentle squeeze, knowing how much Bucky loved having his balls played with.

Moaning once more, Bucky reached down to stroke over Steve’s hair, tugging a bit. “Gonna . . . God, Stevie . . . close . . . “ He let his lust darkened eyes fall on his husband.

Steve didn’t pull away, wanting to bring his lover to completion. He sucked and lapped at Bucky’s core, his tongue pushing as deeply as it could go. All the while, Steve’s fingers brought pleasure to both Bucky’s clitoris and his balls, rubbing and squeezing them in time with his tongue thrusting in and out of Bucky.

Bucky's cock, hard and full and heavy, pulsed above Steve’s face. “Steve . . .” he felt the intense building excitement through his entire crotch, going deeper than he’d felt it before. His balls tightened and cock pulsed and Bucky released a hard, thick jet of white cum, splashing over Steve’s head and his own abdomen.

Steve didn’t stop until he felt Bucky’s orgasm end. Finally, Steve pulled away and smiled up at Bucky, his own chin covered in his lover’s fluids, though Steve didn’t look like he cared at all. “That good, Buck?” Steve breathed out, his hands moving to stroke Bucky’s inner thighs, not touching his pleasurable areas, not wanting to overwhelm the brunet.

Smiling, Bucky chuckled, “you are covered in my spunk, doll. You look so beautiful!” He curled up to cup Steve’s face and kiss him, not minding his own tastes on his husband’s lips. “Love me? I . . . I want you, doll.”

“You have me, sweetheart,” Steve grinned, his blue eyes very happy. “I’m all yours, forever.”

Nodding, Bucky whispered in Steve’s ear, “no . . . I mean . . . I want you _in_ me? Please? If only one time?” Red flushed over the brunet’s face as he waited for another rejection like before.

Blinking, Steve pulled back to meet Bucky’s eyes, “oh . . . you want . . . really? Are you sure?” 

Nodding, Bucky met Steve’s eyes. “I’m a man, Stevie, but my body wants what a woman wants? I can’t help it.”

Licking his lips, Steve nodded, pushing himself up into the right position. “Does it need to be stretched?” Steve asked, flushing when he realized this was like their first time all over again. Steve’s fingers caressed over Bucky’s moist opening, trying to determine how open he was.

Flushing deeper, Bucky shook his head “I don’t know. I never touch inside. Stevie? Do we . . . have any more condoms? Maybe, so I don’t get pregnant?”

“Right, right,” Steve nodded, fumbling over his words, nervous about what they were about to do. He reached over to the table and saw that they still did have some condoms, “yeah, Buck, we got some.” He grabbed one and set it next to them. He brought two fingers to Bucky’s opening, very slow, watching Bucky’s face for any signs of pain.

WIth a moan of pleasure, Bucky nodded, “feels good, doll. Doesn’t feel too tight, either. Maybe women are made more open?””

Nodding, Steve thrust his two fingers in for a few minutes before adding a third, just as slowly as the two. “How’s that, Buck?”

Nodding, not making Steve rush despite feeling more than ready, Bucky lifted his legs and curled them loosely around Steve, exposing his crotch better. “Yeah, right there, doll.” He met his husband’s eyes and said, “this okay for _you_ , Steve? I know you didn’t want to . . .”

“Yeah, Bucky, I’m fine,” Steve smile, kissing Bucky’s lips, thrusting his three fingers in and out for a few more minutes before pulling out once more. He grabbed the condom and opened it, sheathing his cock before placing the head right up against Bucky’s ready, hot entrance. He slowly pushed in, letting Bucky get used to the foreign feeling, watching Bucky’s face to make sure he remained comfortable.

Wonder widened pale blue eyes and Bucky leaned up to capture Steve’s kiss. “Yeah, doll, this is great. God, I love you, Stevie.” He still didn’t try to rush things, so used to anal sex he knew rushing could be detrimental to both health and enjoyment. Instead, Bucky merely enjoyed the sensations: the stretching, the filling.

Once Steve bottomed out, his balls slapping up against Bucky’s ass, the blond kissed his lover again and stayed still for several moments, wanting Bucky to get completely used to the feeling. Steve panted slightly, feeling his own pleasure at the tight passage all around him. “Feel so good, Buck . . . so, so good.”

“Yeah, Stevie, feel so damn good . . .” Bucky sighed and finished tightening his legs around Steve to hold him deep, not insisting on movement yet. He loved just being so close, one with Steve.

Slowly, Steve started to pull out and then push back into his husband’s ready body. Steve kept the pace slow for the first few strokes before speeding up slightly. “That’s it, Buck,” Steve sighed, dropping his face to Bucky’s neck and nipping it gently.

Sighing, Bucky nodded and began to happily meet Steve’s thrusts. “Steve, love you, Steve. My husband. My other half.” Bucky kept up a soft run of endearments as he made love with Steve.

Steve continued his pace, angling his hips so that he brushed across a certain spot inside Bucky that had the brunet seeing stars. “You’re my husband,” Steve purred, nipping lightly at Bucky’s neck, stroking over that spot every few thrusts.

Bucky bit his lip to keep back the sudden welling of moans and minor screams he felt. He whimpered and thrust back, body quivering in reaction. His cock began filling again, hitting against Steve’s belly, precum slicking down the blond’s abdomen..

“You gonna cum again, Buck?” Steve purred, gripping Bucky’s cock in one hand and stroking it up and down, feeling his own orgasm building up. He angled his thrust to it hit Bucky’s special spot ever other stroke, enjoying the looks of pleasure on Bucky’s expressional features.

As if he’d been waiting for his husband’s command, Bucky gasped then buried his face in Steve’s neck, his entire body convulsing. Bucky came, hard, his fluids washing around and over Steve’s sheathed cock as his own cock released a weaker stream of cum once more. “Steve,” Bucky groaned into his lover’s neck.

Groaning, burying his own face into Bucky’s neck to muffle the noises, Steve thrust in hard one last time before releasing his own load into the condom, his cock pulsing inside of Bucky. Steve stayed buried inside his lover for a few more minutes before he eased out, pulling off the condom and tying it before throwing it in the waste bucket. Steve kissed Bucky’s lips, “so pretty, Buck . . . God, I love you so much.”

Bucky chuckled and kissed at Steve’s lips. “Doll, you are the prettiest guy here.” Pausing for a moment, he asked, softly, “hey, Steve? You don’t think I’ll get pregnant from my _own_ semen, right?”

Blinking, Steve looked down at Bucky’s crotch and said, “I . . . don’t think so?” He hurried to grab some cloths they kept nearby and started to clean Bucky up. “But . . . just in case?”

Nodding, Bucky softly said, “maybe I should wear a condom from now own, too? Maybe check into other things for control?” He flushed a bit, wondering how he could get stuff.

“We’ll look into it,” Steve nodded, dropping another kiss to Bucky’s lips, “I love you, Buck. That was . . . incredible. You’re incredible and I love you so much.”


	12. Out of Body, Out of Country

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Bullying, Fighting, War, References to Sexual Abuse of a Minor**
> 
> Thank you for your patience as we are writing for two bangs, have to deal with the holidays, and I am sick.
> 
> Sam

March 10, 1937:

TJ sat on the couch, Luna napping faithfull by his master’s feet. The brunet stared at the wall opposite of him, staring blankly, a look the thirteen year old often got. The episodes seemed to happen much more frequently since TJ had hit puberty.

Opening the door to the small apartment, Bucky walked in, slipping out of his hat and coat. GLancing towards the couch TJ used as his bed, Bucky frowned softly. He paused then hung up his outerwear and slid from his shoes into slippers. Walking over to his little brother, the older brunet reached out to stroke TJ’s curls. “Hey, wanderer. Coming home soon?” Bucky kept his voice soft.

For the first time since the episodes had truly started, TJ didn’t snap right back at the sound of Bucky’s voice. Instead, TJ continued to stare blankly at the wall across from him, his eyes not focused on any single thing.

Bucky stroked again, worry ratcheting up. “Teej? Baby, you’re scaring Bucky. Come back?” He couldn’t understand what was wrong with his brother and feared the boy would get hurt wandering around in this kind of daze - - or that someone might decide he was insane and try to lock him away.

Blinking slowly, TJ finally looked up at Bucky, pale eyes turning confused, his brows furrowing together. “Buck . . . what . . . what are you doing here?” He looked around and frowned softly, “why . . . why am I at the apartment?”

Sinking down next to TJ, Bucky sighed and shook his head, “no wonder Luna left me half an hour ago. I wondered why he chose not to come back. The work day is over, baby. You came home from school in this condition?” He stroked TJ’s curls.

Shaking his head slightly, TJ said, “no . . . I was at school . . . had to use the restroom . . .” TJ looked at Bucky, “but, then . . . I went _there_. I saw him ‘gain. He . . . he . . . it was like I was really there, could almost feel the air on my skin and scents . . .” TJ shook his head, running his fingers through his hair, “I’ve never walked while . . .” TJ fell silent, looking down at his lap with a soft frown.

Nodding, Bucky stroked again. “Yeah, I figured as much. It worries me if you’re walking like that, baby. Could walk in front of a car and get hurt.” Bucky slid his hand under TJ’s chin and lifted gently, studying his brother’s face, worry in his own near identical pale eyes. “I love you, TJ. You know I’m not angry, just scared, right?”

“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” TJ asked softly, searching his brother’s eyes, his features. “It’s one thing for a kid to have dreams of a far away place and a man with raven hair and emerald for eyes . . . but - - now? You think I’m insane.”

Thoughtfully, Bucky continued to study his brother and finally shook his head. “No, I don’t think you’re insane. I think you’re afraid and lonely and your old dreams are more appealing sometimes then your reality. I don’t think you’re consciously choosing to visit him, TJ, but the lure is so tempting you can’t help but just think then fall into the daze that goes with visiting him. Do you understand what I mean?” Bucky stroked his brother’s cheek.

“But, how do I stop it?” TJ asked softly, though he looked torn between hopeful and sad at the idea of never visiting _him_ again. TJ never got a name for the mystery man in his daydreams but TJ could describe him from memory by then.

Pausing to think over things, knowing how much this particular daydream meant to his brother, Bucky finally said, “explain to him that you cannot visit him during the day but only the nights, if he allows you to come home by morning? VIsit him as long as you like during the night?” Bucky hoped that making a conscious decision to _tell_ his dream he could only visit during a safe time might help TJ to follow the decision in practice.

“You think it might work?” TJ asked, meeting his brother’s eyes, his own worried. “That it won’t make them go away forever?”

“Baby, what I think is that others will assume you’re insane, not daydreaming. They won’t understand. If they see you in such a daze, you might be locked up for your own safety and they might not tell me for a bit.” Bucky hugged his brother tightly. “But I think if this blanking out in the daydream is you needing to visit your dream friend, then the friend, and your mind, should understand the compromise? That you need to be safe?” Bucky lifted his face again. “I have no problem with your dreams or visits or whatever is happening, as long as you are safe, happy, and come back to me regularly.”

“I can try?” TJ let out a breath and then offered his brother a small smile, “happy birthday, Buck . . .”

Smiling in return, Bucky said, “thanks, Teej. Do you have any idea if you met Luna here or at the school?” He stroked TJ’s curls again.

“I don’t know? I just remember being in the hall and then . . . I was here?” TJ frowned again in confusion.

Nodding, Bucky said, “okay. Why don’t we try something. Why don’t I see if Luna can wake you up from these dreams? If he can, I’ll talk to your teacher privately and tell him you need Luna with you to wake you up from . . . something. I have to think on this.”

“Bucky, you tell them that . . . they’re gonna lock me up!” TJ insisted, eyes widening in fear.

Cupping TJ’s cheeks, Bucky soothed, “it’s okay. I’m actually only thinking out loud. Thanks for telling me, reminding me. We’ll think of something. Let’s try telling your dream friend you can only visit at night, see how that works?”

“You’re . . . you’re not gonna make me stay home again, are you? Pull me from school?” TJ asked softly.

Touching foreheads, Bucky softly said, “only if you can’t keep from daytime dreams, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt or locked up because of this.”

“I’ve never gone there on my own, Buck . . . I don’t know if I - - I can? It’s almost like . . . he summons me somehow? I can’t explain it . . .” TJ sighed, running one hand through his disheveled curls. “But, I need to tell him to only summon me at nightime . . .”

Nodding, Bucky smiled softly. “I trust and love you, TJ. I know you will try. And, if he loves you, he will understand, yes? If he truly cares, he will only summon you when it is safe for you. Let him know that when he summons you, your body is still walking around and lost. You need to be safe in bed.”

TJ nodded, looking as if he concentrated hard for a few moments, his fingers tapping to a rhythm he heard only in his mind.

“TJ, remember to tell him next time he summons, okay? Right now, you can let it go.” Bucky stroked TJs cheek, worried the boy would upset himself.

As if Bucky’s permission had been the last key, TJ’s fingers stopped tapping and his face went completely blank once more.

The door opened, Steve came in, letting the door shut softly behind him.

Nodding, worried about his brother and the implications of these dazed moments, Bucky continued to si with his brother, stroking very gently and watching him with concerned eyes. Very softly, he called, “hey, Steve. We’re trying something. I didn’t start dinner yet.”

“Dinner? Thought Teej and I were gonna cook since it’s your birthday . . .” Steve hung up his coat, a rectangular package in one arm, the package wrapped in brown paper. “What’s wrong with TJ?” Steve hurried over, placing the package on the table by the couch, crouching down to look at TJ’s blank expression.

“Don’t know if you knew, actually,” Bucky continued in the soft voice, “and it’s really hard to explain, so please, bear with me until I finish? TJ has, since he was very little, gone into his mind and . . . . visited a friend no one else sees or hears. He says he leaves his body and visits the friend somewhere else. It’s been happening a lot since he hit puberty, but today he did it during school and apparently walked home like this. I’ve asked him to tell his friend to only summon him for a visit at night, when TJ is safe in bed. That’s what he’s doing?” Bucky watched for Steve’s reaction.

“This is the same . . . man that TJ is interested in, right? When you had the talk with him about sex? He mentioned a man he visits in his dreams?” Steve questioned, looking worried.

Nodding, Bucky looked relieved Steve remembered. “Exactly. This is the man he’s been visiting mentally. I know most people won’t understand, and I’m not exactly sure what it is, but TJ feels safe with this mind man. I want to keep him physically safe, too. I . . . I don’t see a problem with him doing this as long as he’s safe.” Bucky stroked TJ’s curls.

Steve’s eyes moved back to TJ’s features, taking in the expressionless face and eyes that seemed so far away. “You said he walked like this from the school? How is that possible?” Steve frowned softly in worry.

Shaking his head, Bucky said, “I don’t know. I never could figure out how this works. It’s like he can travel outside his body and his body still, minimally, function. I’m worried that while he’s not mentally aware, he’ll get physically hurt. I hope this works, that he can tell the dream or the man or whatever this is to only call for him at night and to let him return for mornings.” Bucky stroked again, still not trying to wake his brother up since he told him to talk to the dream man.

“I hope not a lot of people saw him like this . . .” Steve let out a breath, his eyes flickering between the two brothers before settling on Bucky again.

“I’ll just say he was lost in thoughts, but that might not work for long, Stevie.” Bucky cuddled his brother close.

Suddenly, TJ’s body jerked back to life, his eyes blinking and looking around before his head turned up to meet Bucky’s eyes. “How long was I gone?” He asked.

“Maybe ten minutes, love,” Bucky offered a smile, stroking TJ’s curls. “Did you find him?”

Nodding, TJ said, “he . . . he says he never meant to put me in harm’s way . . . and that he’ll strive to be more careful from now on?” TJ blinked slowly, looking as confused as he always did when he came back from an episode.

Relief filled Bucky and he cuddled TJ close, “so he agreed to nights only? That’s wonderful. It means he cares, baby.” Bucky still treated TJ’s fantasy as if the boy spoke to a real man somewhere. He saw no harm, like he told Steve, as long as TJ was safe.

TJ nodded, rubbing at his eye with one hand before he looked up at Bucky again, “we gotta celebrate your birthday, Buck. Don’t let me spoil another one for you!” TJ offered his brother a small smile.

Chuckling, Bucky said, “turning twenty today. What do you think? Do I look older?” Bucky pulled away and held his arms spread wide, smiling.

“Yup,” TJ replied, popping the _‘p’_ loudly, “ancient.”

Bucky laughed and ruffled his brother’s curls. “Ancient, huh? Gonna have to get a cane.” He stood up and said, “so, I understand my guys are making me dinner for my birthday?”

“Yeah, whatcha in the mood for, Buck?” Steve asked, grinning at his husband, happy that things seemed to be settling once more.

“I’ll take a surprise, doll. You and TJ pick tonight.” Bucky smiled back. HIs relationship with Steve had grown deeper since that night when they’d explored vaginal intercourse. Bucky didn’t want it all the time, but there were times he did, and it felt right to be able to ask for such attention from his lover.

Picking up the package from the table, Steve handed his husband the present wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. “Happy Birthday, Buck. Something to keep you busy while we cook?”

“Present!” Bucky laughed and sank back onto TJ’s bed, the couch. He carefully unwrapped the rectangle and looked quite impressed at the publication all the way from London. It was a book published in parts the year before. “ _Planet Plane_ by John Beynon! Steve, this is great! Thanks! Teej, this is wonderful!” Bucky was used to getting one present a birthday, so assumed both his brother and lover and collaborated.

“Well, you’ve been sayin’ you wanted to read it? We saw it at the market and picked it up for you?” Steve smiled, loving the expression on Bucky’s face.

Bucky beamed up at TJ, his pale eyes alight with joy. “Thanks, really! I’ve been wanting this since I heard about it.” He opened the book and began reading, out loud.

“And, we know what he’ll be doing for the next few days,” TJ laughed, smiling happily as he looked at Bucky and then back at Steve, reaching for his crutches which leaned against the couch.

Glancing up, Bucky fell silent and nodded. He stood and walked over to his brother, kissing his forehead. “Thanks, baby. It’s perfect.” He stepped over to Steve and kissed his lips. “Thanks, doll.”

“Happy birthday, Buck,” Steve grinned, kissing Bucky’s lips and stroking down his spine, “we love ya.”

“I love both my guys,” Bucky hugged his husband then turned his smile on TJ. “So, why don’t I go sit on TJ’s bed while you two cook. I’ll behave.”

Nodding, Steve kissed Bucky’s temple and said, “yeah, sounds good, Buck. You deserve some relax time.”

“Thanks, Stevie.” Bucky hugge once more and headed back for TJ’s couch.

**************

October 22, 1937:

Watching the living room from his spot in the kitchen, peeling some potatoes, Steve frowned softly and called, quietly, “Buck,” he gestured for his husband to come to him, his brows furrowed as his eyes flickered back to the living room once more.

Walking over to his husband from the doorway he’d just entered, Bucky tilted his head, taking off his coat as he walked. “Yeah?” He matched his tone to Steve’s quiet, instinctively realizing Steve might not want the thirteen year old in the other room to overhear.

“Watch TJ,” Steve advised, keeping his voice low so only Bucky could hear, his hands still peeling the potatoes over the trash bin.

Nodding, Bucky turned to study his little brother, looking for signs of ill health or discomfort, not quite sure what Steve wanted him to see.

As TJ moved on the couch, as if unable to get comfortable, the thirteen year old winced and put a hand to his right leg. The teen had grown over two inches in the last few months, promising to be as tall as his brother and father someday. TJ bent over, trying to adjust the brace that he’d had for almost a year. After a few moments, TJ scrunched up his nose and fiddled with the buckles some more before giving up.

“The brace?” Bucky asked Steve softly. He didn’t take his eyes off his brother.

“Yeah, he’s been messing with it for over thirty minutes,” Steve answered, glancing towards the clock and then back to look at Bucky. “He’s grown quite a bit since his last fitting . . .”

“Okay, I get him another fitting and a longer brace,” Bucky turned, beginning to fasten his jacket once more. “The pharmacy downstairs is still open.” the brunet reached for the coffee tin where he kept the extra savings.

Steve nodded, looking over at Bucky with a soft frown, “did he even let you know he needed a new brace? It has to be painful wearing one that don’t fit right, especially since his go all the way over his foot.”

“Never said a word, and I’m going to ring him a peal for that,” Bucky sighed, counting the cash, He nodded and pocketed the funds. “I’ll see what I can do about replacing the rent money, doll.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I got that extra job down at Mr. Jenkins’ butchery, remember? Repainting all his signs? It’ll be more than enough to cover what we need for rent. Might be a bit sparse on groceries for a week but we’ll make do,” Steve gave Bucky a reassuring smile, putting the last potato in the boiling pot.

Nodding, Bucky tossed Steve a smile then headed into the living room area. “Teej, get your coat. We’ll be late.”

“Late?” TJ frowned, looking up at Bucky from his spot on the couch. Luna’s ear perked up as Bucky walked into the living room, watching his oldest master with large, dark eyes.

“For your brace fitting, baby. Gotta get that new brace. Come on. Before they close, Teej.” Bucky offered his brother a ready smile.

Blinking slowly, TJ shook his head, “no, Buck. I don’t need a fitting. Mine works jus’ fine.” TJ looked down at the ill-fitting brace and then back up at his brother.

“So, donating your old brace to a growing kid is no longer in the cards?” Bucky asked. “You know others can’t afford it except second hand, and your’s is getting too short for your long leg.”

“But . . . we can’t afford a new brace, Buck. You jus’ said that your hours been cut at the newspaper . . .” TJ worried at his bottom lip.

Taking out the money to show TJ, Bucky said, “Steve’s working on all the signs at the butcher’s, so this is the time we can afford it. Let’s go, baby.”

Letting out a breath, TJ grabbed his crutches and got to his feet, wincing a bit as the brace settled uncomfortably on his right leg.

Nodding, Bucky said, “uh, huh . . . like I need you going to your guy and telling him you’re a martyr since you think we can’t afford to care for you. Think what he’ll believe about your family then?” Bucky offered a gentle smile, leading TJ to his coat and the door.

“I never say anything bad about you and Steve to him,” TJ said, grabbing his coat and slipping it over his shoulders.

Chuckling, Bucky winked, “don’t want you starting. He might start summoning _me_ to rake me over the coals. I wouldn’t know how to react to a prince.”

“I’m not a hundred percent sure he’s a prince, Buck . . . some things get jumbled,” TJ said, grabbing his crutches once he was fully dressed again. Ever since Bucky’s birthday, TJ hadn’t had another episode, at least not that Bucky and Steve could tell, during the day and often told them about his dreams at night when he got to visit.

Bucky reached out and put a hand on TJ’s shoulder, “well, a prince usually is the one to summon others, right? So, he’s a prince. And maybe, someday, if you guys meet in the flesh, he’ll prove to be the prince you always need. You deserve one.” Bucky opened the door and grinned at TJ. “We’ll use the back steps right to the prosthetic room.”

TJ took the steps slower than normal due to the pain and discomfort of the too-small brace. “I don’t know ‘bout that, Buck,” TJ commented as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

Chuckling, Bucky said, “humble and gentle and sweet. Your _princess_ will adore you, when you meet.” Bucky winked at TJ and opened the door to the shop Mrs. O’Reilly’s nephew used. “We’ve come for another brace fitting, if you have time, Sir?”

The landlady’s nephew always seemed polite yet sad and withdrawn. He nodded and patted the stool he let TJ sit on during appointments. “Let me get my measuring tape so I can check the leg length. Looks like you’ve grown again, Mr. Barnes.”

“Yeah, I don’t think my brace fits so well anymore,” TJ commented with a nod, giving Mr. O’Reilly a smile as he made his way over to the fitting stool. “Bucky said you can use my old brace for someone that can’t afford a new one?”

A brief smile crossed the man’s morose features and his brown eyes lit momentarily. “I always reuse yours, Mr. Barnes. You take such good care of them, and there’s a young woman who had polio that can use them as she grows, too.”

“That’s good,” TJ nodded once, looking down at his right leg and then back up at Mr. O’Reilly, “you know, you’re one of the best guys ‘round, Mr. O’Reilly, ‘cause without you, me an’ a whole bunch of people wouldn’t walk so good. I’d probably still be gettin’ cut open again and again.”

Freezing, the man blinked at TJ, looking horrified. Suddenly, he gave the boy a hug and whispered, “it’s good to know that I can help.” Letting the boy go, the man went about measuring TJ’s height and leg length, on both sides, his hips and waist and knee circumference. Finally, with a nod, the man offered a very rare smile to TJ and said, “I can have the new one fitted today. Just got a pair in and one’s your new size, Mr. Barnes.”

“Really? That’s great!” TJ beamed happily, looking over at his brother and then back at Mr. O’Reilly.

“And with the discount for letting me have the old one, the brace will be reasonable.” The man lifted down a longer brace from a shelf, the device very obviously new.

“That’s really my size?” TJ blinked in shock, taking in the length of the brace. Had he really gotten that tall?

“Yes, Sir,” Mr. O’Reilly responded. “And if I know my bone growth, you’ll be six foot by the time you finish growing. Almost there now. You’re five seven, Mr. Barnes.” The man turned and helped TJ to strap the new brace on, this one with a very flexible knee joint contraption. “How’s that fit? Should bend a bit easier with this new style.”

Looking down at his leg once more, TJ tested it, bending his leg slowly; he grinned as the leg actually bent, not being forced to stay pretty much straight. “Wow!” TJ grinned brightly.

“Now, Mr. Barnes,” the man warned, “you take it easy and build up strength in the knee. It’s used to not a lot of bending unless you force it outside the brace. Going to need to build up the muscles again. That’s the latest design from Germany.”

TJ watched Mr. O’Reilly for a few moments before he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck. TJ’s arms were still thin, as were his legs, but all his limbs had a long length, if TJ could work out his muscles a little more, he would fill out to be a very strong man. “Thank you, Mr. O’Reilly! You’re the best! I promise I won’t bust my knee!”

“Good, Mr. Barnes,” the man smiled briefly but didn’t pull away. Nor did he reach to touch TJ inappropriately. “Don’t want my favorite patient hurting himself in his enthusiasm.”

Pulling back, TJ nodded, patting Mr. O’Reilly’s knee. “You’re a good man, Mr. O’Reilly. You help loads of people.” TJ reached for his crutches again, slipping out of the stool and letting out a sigh of relief when there was no pain.

Mr. O’reilly looked delighted, for the first time since either brunet could recall. “Thank you for the reminder. Have a good day, Mr. Barnes.” He accepted the payment from Bucky listed on the receipt. “And Mr. Barnes. Say _hello_ to Mr. Rogers for me, please? And let him know that I am considering the need for a sign of my own for my shop? I’d like to discuss ideas with him if he has time for another project?”

“Oh, Stevie will help you!” TJ nodded, grinning brightly at the older man, “he makes the best signs in all of New York, right, Buck?” The thirteen year old seemed so happy, his mood from earlier long gone.

“I am partial since he’s my best friend, but, yeah, I agree, Teej,” Bucky grinned. “I’ll let him know to come talk to you tomorrow?” He slipped the receipt and the extra money in his pocket.

Mr. O’Reilly nodded. “Thank you. Have a good evening. Use the inside steps so you don’t slip on the light ice outside.” The man gestured to his private stairs that led into the apartment building above. He actually seemed a bit less morose than when TJ and Bucky had arrived.

“Thanks, Mr. O’Reilly,” TJ waved to the man before walking towards the steps he’d gestured to. TJ’s movements were a bit off as he tried to get used to his knee being able to bend a little more than before.

Bucky smiled at the shopkeeper and said, “thank you so much. We appreciate everything you’ve done for us. You’ve given TJ freedom and confidence.” The older brunet turned and followed TJ upstairs. “He might have a job for Steve! That’s wonderful!”

“Yup,” TJ agreed with a nod, taking one step at a time, “Steve’s the best painter in Brooklyn, it only makes sense.”

“Teej?” Bucky stopped his brother as they got to their own apartment. “Did Mr. O’Reilly strike you as particularly depressed when we first came in?”

“Yeah? I suppose so? But, he’s always like that. That’s why I try to get ‘im to smile,” TJ shrugged his shoulders, taking off his coat and hanging it on the rack as they entered the small apartment.

Bucky hung up his coat, kicked off his shoes, and slipped into his slippers. He headed for Steve in the kitchen, holding out the money, half of what was the original cost of a brace. “I think it cheered him up to hear how much he helped you, TJ. He seemed horrified about the surgeries.”

“Well, what I said was true. I’d woulda probably gotten a lot more surgeries had I not gotten a brace instead,” TJ smiled and shrugged his shoulders, stroking Luna’s ears as the dog came bounding over to his owner. “I don’t want Mr. O’Reilly to be sad so I always try to tell him how good he is and how many people he helps everyday.”

“TJ, did you know that when someone feels useless and unappreciated he might kill himself if he’s not helped?” Bucky asked gently, offering the change to Steve. “I think you are helping him as much as he’s helping you.”

Steve took the money and put it back in the coffee jar as TJ answered, “kill himself? Why would anyone kill themselves?”

“Because, TJ, he might feel like he’s in the way and useless. That the people around him are better off without him. But what you do, reminding Mr. O’Reilly that he is helping and loved and needed, that will help him feel better. I don’t understand how the mind works, but I’ve seen a lot in the medical articles I set for print.” Bucky smiled wider. “Mr. O’Reilly took off the amount for donating TJ’s brace to a young woman who had polio. And, TJ, why don’t you tell Steve about the rest of it?”

“Mr. O’Reilly wants to hire you, Stevie!” TJ reported with a wide grin.

Blinking, Steve looked from TJ to Bucky back to TJ, “he does? He’s finally going to make his own sign for his shop? That’s great!”

Nodding, Bucky smiled wider. “I think it’s a good thing, too. If he’s making plans, he’s less inclined to want to kill himself, right? TJ reminded him how much he’s needed and appreciated. He seemed surprised to hear it.” Bucky hugged Steve.

“I’ll just have to make sure to remind him more often,” TJ nodded, seeming determined to keep Mr. O’Reilly happy, or at least as happy as the man could be.

“I think we all should, Teej. He really is an unsung hero of this neighborhood. So many polio victims, and other victims, need him. He’s good at helping them walk independently again.” Bucky turned fully to his brother. “Speaking of walks, why don’t you take Luna for his? His eyes look like they’re floating,” Bucky teased.

Laughing, TJ nodded, calling for Luna to follow him out of the apartment.

“Coat!” Bucky called after his brother.

“Yeah, yeah,” TJ called back, grabbing his coat and putting it on.

“Hey, baby?” Bucky lowered his voice, “you ever find out that prince’s name? Feels like he should have a proper name.”

Sighing, TJ shook his head, “no . . . it’s weird. He can’t tell me his name and I can’t tell him mine.” TJ shrugged his shoulders and added, “I’ll be back soon.” And with that, the thirteen year old left with Luna.

Bucky turned to Steve. “Gonna be able to do that prosthetic sign on top of the butcher signs, doll?”

“Oh, yeah, it won’t be too hard,” Steve waved dismissively and then grinned brightly at his husband, “ya know, Buck, you’re gonna make a good parent someday. TJ’s certainly given you enough practice.”

Flushing, but smiling, Bucky lowered his voice. “I’ve been thinking, Stevie. When TJ is out of school, maybe . . . maybe we can think about a baby?” Bucky was slowly embracing his feminine side.

Blinking, Steve eyes widening and his mouth dropped open a bit, “a . . . a baby? But, Buck . . . not that I’m _against_ the idea but . . . you do realize you’d have to be pregnant? That . . . it’d be really hard to hide the truth?”

“I said we could think about it, not jump right in, okay?” Bucky smiled softly.

“This is me thinking about it, Bucky,” Steve said in return, “before either of us put any serious thought into the idea, we need to be sure that you’d be okay with it?”

“We’ve got four years to think about it, Steve. It was only an idea.” Bucky reached out to hug his husband. “Who knows, I might change my mind in the next month. I’m just feeling . . . parent-like right now. TJ makes me so proud.”

“You did really good with him, Buck,” Steve nodded, dropping a kiss to Bucky’s temple, “he’s a good kid and will be a very good man when he gets older.”

“Yeah, I’m so proud of him,” Bucky nuzzled at Steve’s neck. “And if we did want to do the baby thing, it’s more than a pregnancy I have to hide. People will ask why two _bachelors_ would _adopt_ a baby. Guess it’s a bad idea all around.”

“Not really,” Steve shrugged his shoulders, “it could always go that you knocked up some dame and offered to take the baby off her hands? Raise it on your own. It’s unconventional, sure, but not completely unheard of. As for me being here with you, people know me as your roommate, so, that’s an easy one.”

“What about you being the one to knock up some dame?” Bucky laughed.

“Doesn’t matter who knocks up who, really,” Steve shrugged again, dropping another kiss to Bucky’s forehead.

“Well, either one of us would be considered a cad for not marrying her,” Bucky sighed. “Want me to make dinner? I see we’re having potatoes.”

“Was gonna boil some carrots and onions with the potatoes? We have no meat,” Steve answered with a soft laugh.

Nodding, Bucky asked, “we got flour and bread? We can make a thick stew without meat and eat it with bread . . .” The tall brunet headed for the cooking area.

“Sure, sounds good, Buck,” Steve smiled at his lover.

**************

January 16, 1938:

Steve walked alongside Bucky, carrying a paper sack of groceries for the week, trying to stay warm despite the bitter cold air that sliced through them. The winter had been harsh that year, one of the coldest Steve could remember, and he just prayed he didn’t catch a cold. They couldn’t afford for him to be out of work for a week to heal. Steve looked up at Bucky, mouth open to say something, when the sounds of rattling trash cans in the alley they passed cut him off, followed by the sounds of cruel snickering. “That don’t sound good . . .” Steve frowned softly.

Bucky frowned and nodded. “I’d think it was you challenging someone, but you’re right here.” Bucky slid to the entrance of the alley, trying to see what was happening.

“C’mon, why don’t you fight back, you little cripple?” A boy, a few inches shorter than TJ but a lot heavier, sneered as he pushed TJ back to the ground, rattling the trash cans again. “I told you he wouldn’t be no fun, Carter!”

“Steve, put down the bag,” Bucky warned quietly before suddenly stepping into the alley and calling, “you want fun?”

Steve stepped up behind Bucky, face thunderous, though he didn’t say anything as his hands balled into fists.

“You the cripple’s older brother, huh?” The heavier boy snickered, stepping in front of TJ who stayed on the ground, ignoring the icy cold water that seeped through his clothes from the puddle he’d landed in.

“I am,” Bucky said, “and unless you leave now with your flunkies, I will give you something to regret.”

“What? You and your little fairy there?” The boy laughed, jutting his chin in Steve’s direction, “you two don’t scare us! No more than your little cripple brother!”

“Really?” Bucky snorted and said, “Luna, guard Teej.” He stepped sideways to reveal the full sized husky.

Growling, Luna lurched into action, intent on protecting his master. The dog pounced towards the boys who all scattered away from TJ.

“Luna, guard Teej,” Bucky reiterated, making sure the dog didn’t follow the running boys. “And the lot of you stay away from my brother and my friend and me. I have the legal right to protect my own!”

The boys all ran screaming from the dog, pushing past Bucky and Steve to get out of the alley. TJ didn’t try to get up, bringing one hand to wipe at his scraped cheek, only succeeding in smearing icy mud and blood on that side of his face. Luna whimpered once the boys were all gone and nudged at TJ’s left leg with his nose.

Turning to TJ, Bucky squatted down and offered a hand. “You okay? Hurt? Damaged brace?”

“Nah, I think it’s fine,” TJ murmured, taking Bucky’s offered hand and standing up slowly, water dripping from his shirt and pants. The brunet sported a few bruises and cuts on his face, showing that the bullies had most likely hit him before shoving him to the ground in order to try and get a reaction from TJ.

Nodding, Bucky studied his dirty, bruised brother. Finally, he asked, “if you promise not to throw the first punch, I’ll teach you boxing.”

“Won’t matter if I learned boxing or not, Buck,” TJ sighed, bending down to grab his crutches off the ground, frowning as mud dripped off of them.

“Why not?” Bucky asked gently, stepping forward to start investigating the boy’s face. “Self defense.”

“Why? So they can jus’ turn it around on me like they always do? I hit someone then it’s my fault. I don’t hit them . . . they can’t say it’s my fault, can they?” TJ wiped at his cheek again, adding more mud to the already dirtied skin.

Frowning, Bucky began cleaning the mud from his brother’s face. “Just how long have those guys been hitting you?”

TJ’s eyes fell and he shrugged his shoulders, not giving Bucky an answer. Through the collar of his ripped shirt, Bucky could see some yellowing bruises on TJ’s skin.

“Teej, baby, if you’re in danger, I might have to switch back to home schooling. Help me help you?” He reached out to stroke TJ’s cheek.

“It don’t matter if I told you or not. What exactly would you do, huh? Go talk to their Papas? Tell them it ain’t nice to pick on a cripple boy who don’t fight back?” TJ tilted his head slightly, his pale eyes watching Bucky closely. “I figure they’ll get bored of me eventually, right? I ain’t fighting them back.”

“TJ, _how long_ ,” Bucky asked again. “How long have they been cornering you?” He took his brother’s hands and shook him very gently. “How long have you let these kids hit you under the assumption they’ll stop their favorite game?”

Scrunching his nose up, TJ couldn’t meet his brother’s eyes as he shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know? Few months?”

“And in a few months, you haven’t realized that they’re not getting bored enough to give up?” Bucky pulled TJ into a hug suddenly.

“They . . . they don’t get bored of me . . . then they won’t pick on anyone else. I can play dumb cripple for a few dumb kids, Buck,” TJ answered, going along with the hug.

“You’re letting them beat you up to protect someone else?” Bucky sounded surprised. He pulled back to meet his brother’s eyes. “Who are you protecting?”

“There are kids littler than me. They liked pickin’ on Jimmy Pickett, ya know, the boy that drools all over the place and can’t make good sentences? They like pickin’ on him and smashing up his toy soldiers,” TJ shrugged his shoulders again.

“Steve, how old did those bullies look to you?” Bucky asked softly, studying TJ carefully.

“‘Bout fifteen or sixteen, maybe?” Steve answered, watching the brothers with a soft frown. Had TJ really been letting these boys wail on him for a few months?

“TJ, if I teach you to fight back, boxing or whatever, you can defend the littler guys without being a punching bag. You can fight back, hard, and inform them that next time you catch them picking on anyone, you’re going to deal with them.” Bucky lifted TJ’s chin.

“But . . . you said I should never throw the first punch, Buck,” TJ pointed out softly.

“Except in defense . . . if they are hurting someone, you have the right to hit them to protect the victim. Right?” Bucky gave his brother a grim smile. “So, in the name of defending the weak, I can teach you how to make those guys decide it’s not worth picking on the weak.”

“You think it might work? Really?” TJ asked, searching his brother’s features.

Nodding, Bucky said, “I _know_ it will work. They like to beat on the weak ones because it’s easy and feels like power. But as soon as they find a challenge, they’ll back off. Right Steve?” He never took his eyes of TJ.

“Right,” Steve agreed with a nod, “that’s what bullies do.”

“So, let me teach you how to box? How to train Luna to protect the little guys without biting so he can’t be labeled vicious?” Bucky stroked TJ’s cheek, still smiling grimly. “My brother, the hero.” Bucky sounded proud yet determined.

Shaking his head, droplets of dirty water flinging off his hair, TJ said, “nah, not a hero. Jus’ don’t like bullies, ya know? Kids like Jimmy can’t stand up for themselves so,” TJ shrugged his shoulders. “But . . . I think I’d like to learn how to box, Buck. I’ll learn real good.”

“So, we start going to Goldie’s in the afternoons, okay, TJ? You come meet me at the newspaper and we’ll go from there. Steve, coming to Goldie’s with us?” Bucky reached out to put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, squeezing lightly.

“Sure, as long as you both don’t mind some wheezing to keep us all company,” Steve laughed softly, looking between the brothers.

****************

September 1, 1939:

Checking the prominently displayed porcelain clock in the clockwork repair shop, Bucky straightened his tie, still dressed very much for his job as assistant editor for the local Brooklyn paper. He nodded and began walking towards the school once more. He had no idea why the music teacher, Mr. Conners, had called him from work, but Bucky always took TJ’s education seriously. If TJ needed something at school, Bucky would make sure to get it for him. Fortunately, in the last year and a half, TJ had concentrated on his boxing and self-discipline, able to help those _little guys_ he and Steve always worried about. Most of the bullies avoided tangling with TJ or his _pets_ anymore.

Arriving at the large cinderblock and wood building, Bucky walked in past the students and teachers. He headed down the familiar hallways from his own youth and his continual appointments for TJ for regular updates on his brother’s needs and progress. It felt odd, however, to have one of those updates happen during school and working hours. Bucky hoped his brother hadn’t gotten hurt or in trouble.

Knocking on the outside of Mr. Conner’s office, Bucky waited for the teacher to respond.

The office door opened and Mr. Harry Conners smiled up at Bucky, “oh! Mr. Barnes! Good, good!” The thin red haired man had aged over the years, developing some wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, his hair beginning to grey. “Please, come in, come in,” Harry stepped back with a sweep of one hand, opening the door wider for Bucky to step in.

Stepping into the office past the teacher, Bucky held his hat in his hand, glancing around before looking back at the teacher. “TJ’s okay, Sir?”

“Very well,” Harry assured the brother and guardian of his student, “he is practicing an advanced piece as we speak. Many masters of the piano have issues playing the piece he is performing right now.” The man moved around his desk, cluttered with paper, but Bucky could see the papers were in some type of organization despite the messy appearance.

“Okay, then why did you need me to rush over here, Sir?” Bucky loved that his brother was very musically inclined, seemed to be a natural at the piano, but he had trouble getting as excited and overall obsessed about the musical aspects as the teacher regularly did.

Nodding, pushing his wire framed glasses up the bridge of his narrow nose, Harry sifted through the papers on his desk until he found the one he’d been looking for. “Ah!” He grinned happily and thrust the paper at Bucky, “your brother has gotten some attention for his talents, Mr. Barnes.”

“Why does that sound worrying to me, Mr. Conners,” Bucky frowned, narrowing his eyes.

Frowning softly, tilting his head a bit, Harry said, “it is a good thing, Mr. Barnes. That is a letter from Mr. Benjamin Britten all the way from England! He wants to take your brother on as his personal student! Imagine the opportunities this opens for Thomas!”

“No,” Bucky said, sounding calm and firm. “Thomas won’t be going with this Britten fellow.”

“Mr. Barnes . . .” Mr. Conners blinked in surprise, obviously not expecting to be shut down so quickly, “your brother is out growing what I can teach him. He is a master at the piano at the age of fifteen! He needs a teacher which will help him grow!”

Bucky crossed his arms, meeting the teacher’s eyes. “Mr. _Britten_ from London? Sounds like a suspiciously convenient name. Also, how the hell did he even hear TJ play from all the way in England? No, suspicious.”

“Mr. Britten attended our concert in the Spring, has some family here and must’ve heard we were having a show,” Harry frowned worse, an odd expression on the normally happy man’s face.

“An important musical figure visits all the way to a foreign country and happens to want to check out a group of children in a school show?” Bucky frowned more fiercely.

Taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes before slipping them back on, Mr. Conners finally said, “okay, I invited him. I studied over in England for a few years as a lad and he is an acquaintance of mine. He agrees with me that Thomas has exceptional talent, Mr. Barnes. I know you - -”

Stiffening, Bucky asked, slowly, nearly growling, “then why did you try to keep that bit from me? I would be more receptive knowing this professional was one you knew and trusted.”

“I didn’t know anything would come from it!” Mr. Conners huffed softly.

“I mean today, when you told me. You kept from me this man’s credentials and relation until I argued and questioned. This doesn’t lend me to _trust_ you.”

“ _Me_? I’ve been your son’s instructor for years!” Mr. Conners frowned again.

Softly, Bucky said, “brother, Sir. TJ is my brother, younger by seven years. And he was very seriously sexually assaulted. I find it very hard to trust people with his care because of it.”

Blinking, Mr. Conners looked up at Bucky with a frown, “he . . . when?”

“Very shortly before beginning public school. Mr. Harver - - if you recall the case in the news?” Bucky sighed and ran a hand over his hair. “It was five and a half years ago. I struggled with letting him start school at all, Mr. Conners.”

“He has never said anything to me,” Harry sighed and shook his head, running his fingers through his hair.

“Sir, if you were a boy and had been molested, would you tell people?” Bucky sighed again. “I appreciate you wanting to further his training, but I don’t feel right letting him go to a foreign country without personally knowing the instructor and the people who will care for him. Besides, he will be required to take Luna, because I am not separating that pair. You don’t see his dog while he’s in school, but they are inseparable at home.”

“Mr. Barnes, take some time to think about it. Thomas is a very smart, skilled boy. He’s outgrown what we can teach him here. I just don’t want to see his talents wasted . . . for him to become some average man when he is so much more than that,” it was obvious that Mr. Conners truly cared for TJ and wanted what he thought was best for him.

“Mr. Conners, I will start investigating continuing musical training for him. Perhaps you know some New York schools, even outside of Brooklyn, where he can study?” Bucky temporized.

“I can start looking into them, though none of them will be as good of an opportunity as what Mr. Britten is offering,” Harry nodded, sighing softly and letting the letter he’d been holding out to Bucky fall to the desk once more. “I must warn you, though, music schools are not cheap. That is why I reached out to Mr. Britten.”

“What about the Institute of Musical Art in Manhattan? I hear they’re very good,” Bucky offered the name of the most prestigious school for music training in New York, on he’d reported on the year before. “Will they agree to hear TJ play on your and Mr. Britten’s recommendation?”

“They might,” Harry nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose once more, “and perhaps they might offer a scholarship? The Institute offers some of the best musical education in New York, Mr. Barnes.”

“I want TJ to excel in the field he wishes, Sir. And if you bring him in and tell him about the London offer and the alternate I suggest, we’ll see what TJ thinks? He should have say in his future,” Bucky finally relented.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Harry nodded and gestured for Bucky to follow him, “he’s in the music room right now.” The teacher lead Bucky down the hall, the sounds of a complicated musical piece echoing off the walls and carrying down to them. “Perhaps it is a good thing you don’t have a piano at home, Mr. Barnes,” Harry commented softly with a fond smile, “I believe he would play for hours if allowed.”

Offering a soft chuckle of agreement, Bucky paused inside the music room, knowing the now open door would change the acoustics enough for TJ to notice.

Blinking, TJ stopped playing the classical piece and glanced over at the door. The fifteen year old, now only two inches shorter than Bucky, grinned when he saw his brother. Due to the boxing, TJ had filled out quite a bit, making his limbs not so awkward and long-looking. Overall, TJ was a very handsome boy and, despite his handicap, turned the heads of many of the girls in his grade. “Hey, Buck!” TJ turned on the bench of the instrument, “whatcha doin’ here?”

“Mr. Conners had a visitor during your spring concert, baby. That visitor was a man named Benjamin Britten, maybe you’ve heard of him?” Bucky hugged back, smiling softly.

“Britten? Yeah, I heard of him. He’s a composer in England,” TJ nodded, glancing over at Mr. Conners, “you never said you knew him, Mr. Conners.”

Harry laughed softly and nodded, “you’re right, I did not. He was very impressed by you, Thomas.”

“So impressed, he wrote a letter. Go ahead, Mr. Conners. Give TJ the letter to read,” Bucky encouraged, watching his brother carefully.

Harry nodded, walking over to TJ and handing over the letter that Benjamin had written him.

TJ took the piece of paper and read it over, blinking in shock and then reading it again. “He . . . he wants me to move to London to train under him?”

“I jumped ahead and told him _‘no,’_ but realized that wasn’t fair to you.” Bucky stroked TJ’s cheek. “However, I also offered an alternate. The Institute of Musical Art in Manhattan.”

“Buck, that school ain’t cheap,” TJ lifted his eyes, looking at Bucky with a soft frown, “I’m fine here. Don’t hafta go to any fancy school.”

“Mr. Conners says you’ve reached the end of his skills, baby. You won’t be able to advance with only his guidance.” Bucky smiled gently.

“What do I gotta advance for?” TJ shook his head.

“Mr. Conners?” Bucky offered the teacher a chance to persuade the teenager.

“Thomas,” Mr. Conners offered TJ a smile and said, “you have such an incredible skill. You are playing a song that people, even I, struggle to play when we’ve been practicing our entire lives. A talent like yours shouldn’t be dimmed,” Harry smiled encouragingly.

Frowning softly, TJ looked at Harry and then up at Bucky, “I’m fine right here. We don’t got the money for that school. Besides, it’d all be full of stuck up rich folk anyways.”

Laughing outright, Bucky said, “TJ, would you like to apply and see if you can get a scholarship? If not, you don’t have to go, but if you get a scholarship, you can think about it? Or is this your final word this year, baby?” He didn’t rule out TJ changing his mind in the future.

Scrunching up his nose, TJ shook his head and said, “I wouldn’t fit in at that school, Buck, I’m tellin’ you now. Worse than even now . . .”

“Well, Mr. Conners, you can’t say I swayed him away from schooling. TJ says not this year.” Bucky stroked his brother’s cheek again. “You’ll just have to put up with teaching him a bit longer. I’ll look into trying to get him more challenging music if I can find any. How about teaching him to _compose_ music? That might help?”

“Oh, Thomas didn’t tell you? Mr. Barnes, your brother has been composing his own music for almost two years now,” Mr. Conners sighed softly, though he didn’t argue with TJ and Bucky anymore. He couldn’t force TJ to go to London or the Institute, after all.

“TJ, work on your composition. I’ll see if I can find some of the classical composers for you so you can study their style and timing and stuff, okay? Maybe with Mr. Conner’s help you can learn to copy them then change them to your own style? Nothing wrong with some classical.” Bucky glanced over to the teacher.

TJ shrugged his shoulders, “sure, Buck.” The tall fifteen year old reached for his crutches and got to his feet, leaving the letter from Mr. Britten on top of the piano. “We goin’ home now?”

“As long as classes are over for the day, sure.” Bucky turned and offered a hand to Mr. Conners. “I appreciate your efforts, Mr. Conners. Please, feel free to expand on his lessons as creatively as you can. Maybe next year he’ll change his mind?”

Nodding once, Mr. Conners shook Bucky’s hand, “yes, well, I’m sure I can come up with something? Though, I have been _creative_ this entire year with his lessons, Mr. Barnes. Good afternoon, Thomas, Mr. Barnes.” Harry offered a smile, plucking the letter off the piano before turning out of the room.

Bucky turned and hugged his brother, whispering, “is it just the money, Teej? Really, is that all that’s holding you back from pursuing music?”

“I’m pursuing music jus’ fine from right here,” TJ murmured.

Cupping TJ’s face, Bucky met his brother’s eyes. “Mr. Conners was talking about turning you into a professional concert pianist, baby, not just someone who plays for enjoyment. You’d be able to make real money doing it, he feels. I agree you’re damn good.”

“Yeah, but, no one in our family has made a living makin’ music, Buck,” TJ pointed out.

“You don’t want to be the first?” Bucky smiled gently.

“Look, Buck, I don’t wanna be a concert pianist. Havin’ people stare at me and everything. I don’t want that,” TJ shook his head, pulling out of Bucky’s hold and heading towards the door.

Nodding, Bucky agreed, “okay. Just wanted to be sure it wasn’t the money holding you back from a dream, baby. Let’s go home. I wasn’t allowed to bring Luna to the school and he must have been upset.”

TJ nodded and walked alongside Bucky, the new brace he wore allowing him to walk almost like other teens. “Plus, we _don’t_ have the money for me to be a concert pianist, Buck. Not with Stevie’s medical bills and mine. You already work too much as it is.”

Nodding, Bucky caught up with his brother. “Scholarships can cover all costs, baby,” he commented, but didn’t insist on TJ reconsidering. “But if you don’t think you’ll be happy doing it, then by all means don’t. You’ll find your career in time. You’ve still got school left for a couple of years.”

Once they’d made it outside and started heading home, they saw a newspaper boy standing out in the streets with a stack of papers. “Read all about it!” The boy called out to the passing crowds, “Germany invades Poland!”

Bucky sighed and nodded, already aware of that news since he’d supervised the typesetter who’d laid the type for the main article. “Germany broke the treaties from the last Great War.”

TJ looked up at Bucky, tilting his head slightly, “think we’re gonna go over there again, Buck?”

“If that Hitler keeps this up? Yeah, America won’t be able to help getting involved.” Bucky frowned fiercely and placed a hand behind TJ’s back, guiding him towards the apartment door.


	13. Easy Come, Hard Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Angst, Fighting, Violence, Injury, Anger, Angst, Heartache**
> 
> Also: thank you all for your patience as we took a long hiatus to work on the Stucky bang AU.

September 30, 1939:

Hurrying into the warm, small apartment, Steve brushed some of the water from his blond hair. He slipped out of his coat, damp from the rain, and hung it up on the rack with Bucky and TJ’s coats. Luna watched the door, his ears perking up when he saw Steve coming in. Like always, Luna lay right by TJ’s feet, the fifteen year old working on homework. Steve said his greetings to his husband’s younger brother before calling, “hey, Buck, you hear the news?” He was pretty sure Bucky had, considering Bucky’s job.

Stepping from the small bedroom he shared with Steve, Bucky said, “what news, Stevie?” He offered a smile to the smaller blond man.

“Howard Stark, that inventor you like? He’s startin’ his own company. He’s hiring a bunch of people for all these different jobs,” Steve grinned at his husband, slipping out of his too-large shoes so he didn’t track mud throughout the apartment.

“I checked, actually, and he’s going to be manufacturing weapons to aid in the war over in Poland.” Bucky stepped over to his husband and kissed his lips. “And he’s offering starting wages a little bit lower than the newspaper job I’m in, but with great potential for advancement and raises.”

Humming against Bucky’s lips, Steve stroked down Bucky’s back and smiled, “are ya gonna apply?”

“I was thinking about it, but wanted your opinion, Stevie.” Bucky looked over at TJ. “What do you think, Teej?” Bucky deliberately avoided the pet name baby; he could see how TJ grew more and more into the man he’d become.

“Huh?” TJ blinked, glancing over at his brother from where he’d been looking at the paper he worked on. “What’d you need me to do, Buck?”

Laughing, Bucky asked, “do you think I should apply to Stark for a manufacturing job?”

“Is that the inventor fella you’re always talkin’ about?” TJ asked, tapping the end of his pencil against his plush lips. 

“Yes, it is. The job won’t pay as much as I get now, but there’s potential for promotion up to very much higher than I could get with the paper.” Bucky reached over to stroke his hand down Steve’s back.

“I say go for it,” Steve smiled up at his lover, kissing his lips and stroking again, feeling that Bucky had taken off his bindings already. “You’re a great worker, Buck. You’ll be promoted quick.”

TJ’s eyes watched the two men kissing and cuddling, his pale eyes intent, his head tilting a bit, a look similar to longing in his eyes. He didn’t say anything before he cleared his throat and nodded, “yeah, Steve’s right. You’ll be promoted quick.”

Bucky turned his head and smiled at his brother. “Thanks, Teej. I appreciate the opinion. I think I’d prefer a mechanic’s job over factory work, but if I can show off some skill and dedication, I think I can get the promotion I’d want, right?” Bucky turned back to Steve and smiled wider.

“And, there’s no harm telling whoever interviews you that, when you go in, Buck. You have experience, maybe you’ll start off higher than the lowest position, who knows,” Steve grinned, kissing Bucky’s lips again.

Chuckling and kissing back, Bucky agreed, “I do have experience fixing the presses.” He glanced over at his brother again. “So, how’s that paper coming, ba . . . Teej?”

Blinking, tearing his eyes from where Steve’s hand rested on Bucky’s waist, TJ looked up at Bucky, “hmm? What’d you say, Buck? Sorry . . .” TJ flushed a bit.

Tilting his head, noting TJ’s interest in Steve’s hands on him, Bucky said, “I asked about your homework?”

“Oh, I finished the paper yesterday. This is extra,” TJ looked down at the paper on his lap and then back up at Bucky. “Finished my mathematics, as well. Everything’s been really easy.” TJ shrugged his shoulders. 

“Maybe you can ask for harder lessons from your teachers?” Bucky suggested, finally pulling slowly from Steve’s grasp. He headed towards the kitchen area calling, “Luna, dinner.”

Luna barked happily and scrambled to his feet, dinner being the only word that took the dog from TJ’s side. The husky shifted from foot to foot as he watched Bucky intently, tail wagging back and forth as he waited by the edge of the kitchen.

Bucky put the dog’s dinner in his bowl and checked the water. He then called, “good boy, Come eat, Luna. TJ? What do you want for dinner?”

As the dog hurried over to his bowl and started eating his meal, TJ could be heard calling back, “oh, I don’t care. You ask what Stevie wants?”

Chuckling, Bucky said, “not yet. I was giving you a chance to get in on suggestions. Steve? Any preference I can try to accommodate?” He waited for Steve’s reply before even bothering to open the ice box or pantry shelving curtain.

“Don’t we have some of that leftover roast from last night?” Steve asked, walking into the kitchen, smiling at Bucky.

“That sounds fine to me,” TJ could be heard calling back, “Steve makes some of the best roasts!”

“So,” Bucky nodded, turning for the bread box and the ice box. “Two votes for _Steve’s_ roast. We can do that.” He began to prepare the leftover roast to reheat in the oven. “Maybe some of the carrots and potatoes that are left, too?”

Steve came up behind Bucky, stroking down his spine, “you alright, Buck?” Steve asked softly, his voice tinged with concern.

Leaning back into Steve’s touch, Bucky turned his head, smiling, and softly said, “yeah, why? You okay, doll?” He transferred the carrots and potatoes into the roast pan to heat up with the meat.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Steve kissed the back of Bucky’s neck, “think there’s enough time while that’s heating up to have some _us_ time in our bedroom, husband?” Steve gently nipped at Bucky’s ear.

Chuckling, Bucky called out, “hey, Teej? Mind watching the roast? Steve and I want some us time?”

TJ didn’t say anything for a few moments before he called back, “yeah, sure, Buck. You two have _us_ time.”

Offering his brother a wide smile, Bucky checked the roast, adding some water, before tugging Steve towards the bedroom. “Thanks, ba . . . Teej!”

TJ looked over at the door as it closed, hearing the sounds of Bucky and Steve getting intimate with one another. He knew they tried to keep quiet but the walls were so thin that just the littlest noise would carry out into the other room. Looking back down at his half finished paper, TJ sighed softly, glancing over as Luna came back into the living room. “Jus’ you and me, ‘gain, boy,” TJ murmured softly, reaching over to scratch his dog behind the ears. “You gotta go outside, huh?” When Luna barked in confirmation, TJ nodded and grabbed his crutches. “C’mon, boy,” TJ whistled softly to his dog as he headed towards the door.

Outside, TJ heard some shouting from the nearby alley. He heard the all too familiar cry of his friend, Jimmy, sounding pained and scared. The familiar sounds of the local bullies mingled with Jimmy’s cries.

Frowning, TJ turned towards the alley and whispered to Luna, “heel, Luna,” he ordered, inching towards the opening of the alley. Looking in, TJ frowned severely when he saw the group of three bullies picking on the special needs boy who liked to play outside with his toy soldiers.

A fourth teen came out of the shadows from a doorway attached to the next door kosher bakery. The new boy stood tall, lean, and almost lethal in the controlled, dignified way he carried himself. He had very high end clothing on, appearing to be a customer rather than a local, especially as TJ had no idea who the boy in the newsboy cap was. The boy seemed to take in the tableau in an instant and stepped further towards the group, carrying a walking stick with a thick wolf-shaped silver head. “Step away from the child. This is your only warning,” he said in a softly accented, calm voice.

The main bully, the same teen who’d liked to push TJ around, turned and snarled at the fourth teen, “this isn’t any of your business, foreigner!” He crunched one of the toy soldiers under his foot, grinding it into the ground.

Lifting the walking stick, the boy slammed it heavily across the back of the bully’s knees, sending him reeling in pained. “One,” the stranger said on a calm, low tone, not shouting or sounding threatening in the least, though the deadly calm was a threat in itself. “I am born in Brooklyn. Not a foreigner. Leave him alone.”

One of the other trio knelt beside his leader and said, “hey, are we gonna take that from the Jerry?”

“I don’t see you helpin’ me, Carter!” Johnny shouted, struggling to his feet with a vicious growl. “Get ‘im!”

Nodding, Carter and Butch, the third bully, rushed the stranger, who stepped out of the way, seeming to waver just a bit on his left before lifting it. Standing on one leg, he brought his walking stick back across Carter’s waist and tailbone, hard, bruising the boy.

“Protect Jimmy, Luna!” TJ ordered his dog, Luna bolting into action and growling, lunging into the fray to get to the crying boy. TJ jumped in as well, calling, “hey, Carter! Three against one ain’t fair!” He slammed a well aimed fist into Carter’s middle, his crutches falling away so he could protect himself with his fists like Bucky had been teaching him at Goldie’s gym.

As TJ took on Carter, the stranger turned his attention, and his walking stick, on Butch, slamming the street tough across the backs of the knees then his tailbone, causing incredible pain but no permanent injury.

Carter and Butch pulled back, trying to avoid further pain, ignoring Johnny’s orders and insults in self preservation.

“Both of ya are cowards!” Johnny shouted back to his friends, glaring at the newcomer and TJ. “Ain’t scared o’ two cripples!”

The stranger with the soft accent turned back to Johnny and swiped his legs from under him again, sending him hard to the concrete. “Two,” he said, calmly, not even panting, “I am no cripple.” He lifted the cane, twisting it as if he would strike Johnny on the head with the heavy silver top.

Narrowing his eyes, Johnny snarled, “whatever, the retard ain’t fun to mess with anyways.” Johnny scrambled to his feet. 

Before Johnny got further than flipping over, the cane came down heavily, just brushing past the bully’s ear, and cracking harshly on the concrete, actually leaving a dent. The stranger knelt over Johnny and breathed, calmly, into his ear, “missed . . . shall I try again?”

Johnny’s eyes flickered with fear before he climbed out from under the other teen and ran off.

TJ immediately went to Jimmy, “hey, Jimmy, you alright?” He tried to see if the scared boy had suffered any injuries.

The stranger stood, ignoring the fact that he’d severely damaged his own walking stick in the fight. Leaning on it heavily, he limped over to TJ and Jimmy. “My father taught me to shape soldiers of tin and wood. I can repair his troops. Is he in need of medical aid?” He still sounded perhaps German despite his claims of being from the neighborhood. The boy pushed his hat back, revealing tight black curls and vivid green eyes.

Unable to crouch due to his brace, TJ maneuvered himself until he sat next to Jimmy, “hey, Jimbo, you hurt?” He knew the boy couldn’t form full sentences but he should be able to answer basic questions. “Want me to get your Mama?”

“Mama,” the boy cried, trembling, shaking hard enough it was hard to see where his bleeding came from.

“I can get her if you wish to stay with him? Give me directions. I am faster than I seem,” the other teen offered.

Looking up at the other teen, TJ pointed back at the apartment behind them, his apartment building, “she’s on the second floor, two-oh-three. Tell her that Jimmy’s hurt.” TJ looked back down at the smaller, younger boy.

Nodding, the boy turned and hurried off, despite his limp. He returned within mere minutes with Jimmy’s mother, a widow whose husband had died in a train accident a couple of years after her only child had been born. As the woman knelt by her son, trying to comfort the crying, shaking, bleeding boy, the dark-haired teen squatted, left leg out fairly straight, and began picking up all the toy soldiers.

TJ looked over at Luna and murmured, “good boy, Luna. Heel. Good boy,” TJ cooed, stroking his dog’s fur. He used the building to help himself up off the step where he’d sat down next to Jimmy, trying to give the boy’s mother more room to work with. TJ half hopped, half dragged his foot until he made it to where his crutches were on the ground. He grabbed them and turned back to the stranger, “hey, thanks for helpin’ him. Lots of people wouldn’t.”

“Then lots of people are morally unjust. I saw no reason for the lad to be tortured.” Having collected all the broken toys, the raven-haired teen rose carefully, using his broken walking stick as best he could, though his right hand appeared bloody from getting cut on the damaged silver topper. “Do you think he would prefer new repairs or honorable wounds on his troop?”

“Here,” TJ offered one of his crutches for the other boy to use, “do you have another walking stick at your house? I can walk with ya back so you don’t keep cuttin’ up your hand.” TJ could make due with one crutch; he just wouldn’t be able to walk as fast. Looking at the soldiers in the stranger’s hands, TJ said, “well, if they ain’t completely broke, Jimmy will still play with them. He likes using the damaged ones for when he plays hospital.”

Nodding, the boy said, “if you can help him understand I’m not stealing them but healing them, I’ll fix them tonight and bring them back in two days?” Offering TJ a soft smile, the other teen accepted the use of the crutch. “Thank you for the support. My leg has little strength on its own and collapses.” Despite the fight, the boy’s clothes still looked expensive and relatively undamaged.

TJ nodded once, giving the other teen a smile and then he moved over to where Jimmy and Mrs. Pickett sat. “Heya, Jimbo,” TJ offered a smile, “mind if my pal over there takes your soldiers to his hospital to get all ready for duty? I promise he’ll bring ‘em back in a few days? Gotta make sure your soldiers are healthy, right?”

Jimmy looked up, tears over his bruised and battered face. “Pal?” He looked at the raven-haired teen. “Pal?”

Offering a smile, the teen said, “Tom.”

Grinning crookedly, TJ nodded and said, “yeah, that’s my pal, Tom, Jimbo. I promise he’ll take real good care of your soldiers. Can he take ‘em to get all patched up?”

Nodding, Jimmy said, “Pal Tom. Tee . . .” he leaned into his mother, who looked up and sighed.

“Thank you both for helping my boy. I’ll take Jimmy home now,” she helped her son to stand and guided him to their apartment, offering TJ and Tom another smile.

Tom nodded and said, “will you still walk with me, Tee?” he used Jimmy’s name for TJ.

“Of course,” TJ nodded, “Luna, come,” TJ ordered and then smiled at Tom, “name’s TJ, actually, Jimmy has a hard time with his words.”

Nodding, Tom said, “we all have troubles. Some of us are a bit more obvious about them.” He turned towards the bakery and began limping his way into the back room. “Mama, I come with a friend. He is TJ. This is my mother. She speaks little English but fluent Norwegian if you know that language?”

“Sorry, can’t say I do,” TJ answered, offering his hand to the woman, a slender red-haired woman flushed from baking, “pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

She smiled at the boy and walked over, taking his face in flour-covered hands. She kissed his forehead and thanked him in rapid Norwegian, the language unfamiliar but the sentiment obvious, though no one told TJ why she thanked him. She turned and took the broken walking stick then inspected her son’s hand, making him put the toys down on a clear table. She began tending his injury.

“Your family owns the bakery?” TJ asked, looking around the large baking kitchen.

Nodding, Tom said, “my mother and father ran a bakery on the other side of Brooklyn but it was burned down. The police say it is arson. So, they moved back here where my grandfather runs this bakery. They are helping out while they try to rebuild for themselves, but funds are scarce.” Tom let his mother work on his hand as he offered a bright smile to TJ. “TJ, why does your dog keep looking across at the apartment building?”

“Oh, because I live in that apartment building with my older brother and his best friend,” TJ answered, glancing at Luna and then blinking and cursing under his breath, “the roast!” 

“Take your crutch, TJ. I am fine. Will I see you outside tomorrow?” Tom continued to smile, offering the borrowed crutch back.

Taking the crutch from Tom, TJ nodded, “yeah, I’ll be around. If ya ever need anything, I’m right there,” TJ smiled, giving Tom the number to his apartment before hurrying out with a, “Luna, come!” TJ hurried as fast as he could back to the apartment, wincing when he could smell something burning as he walked up the steps.

Bucky and Steve’s bedroom door opened just as TJ lead Luna into the apartment, Bucky wrapped in an old terry cloth robe. “What the hell? Is the meat bruning?” he sounded worried and upset. “Teej!”

“Sorry!” TJ hurried into the kitchen, grabbing a mit so he could pull the completely burnt roast out of the oven. “Dammit,” he cursed softly as he set the pan on top of the stove, smoke billowing from the ruined meal.

“Teej! You said you’d watch dinner for us.” Bucky hurried out and grabbed a mitt of his own to shift the food into the sink and run cold water over the smoking, blackened mess. “We don’t need private time if you’re busy!”

“I . . . forgot?” TJ winced, eyes moving down both Bucky and Steve’s bodies, only clothed in robes.

Sighing, Bucky reached over and paused then slipped a hand under TJ’s chin and lifted his face, frowning. “Why do you have blood on your shirt and hands, baby? What happened?”

Pulling his chin out of Bucky’s hand, TJ flushed and said, “nothing. I’m fine, Bucky . . .”

Steve stayed by the bedroom door, watching the scene unfold between the two brothers.

With another sigh, Bucky let his hand drop and pulled his robe closed more. “Teej, if you need more free time, you only have to say. I know we rely on you a lot, but I also understand you’re young and would want time of your own.”

“And cut into you and Steve’s _us_ time?” TJ asked with a frown.

Bucky shook his head, “we can have _us_ time at night. We don’t need it during the afternoon. Just talk to us about what you want and need?”

Rolling his eyes, TJ huffed, “you guys have _us_ time all the time. And just say you wanna have sex. I ain’t ten anymore, Buck. Not like I can’t hear what you guys are doin’ in there.”

Flushing incredibly red, Bucky hugged himself and nodded, “okay.” His voice dropped softly, sounding embarrassed. “Sorry . . . didn’t realize I was so loud, Teej.”

TJ shrugged his shoulders, “wouldn’t matter if you two were the quietest lovers in all of Brooklyn. Walls ain’t exactly concrete, Buck.”

Nodding, Bucky said, still softly, “I didn’t think about that. Let me get dressed and I’ll put something together for dinner.” He turned and walked past Steve into the bedroom, avoiding touching his husband.

“Don’t bother,” TJ called after his brother, “I’ll make something. I messed up this meal. Only fair I figure something else out.”

Pausing just inside the bedroom, Bucky nodded. “Okay. If you need ingredients, there’s food money in the jar.” He stepped further into the tiny bedroom and pulled off his robe, reaching for his underwear. He pulled ona shirt next, loose since he didn’t strap down, and slid into loose pants. Sliding his feet into his slippers, Bucky walked back into the living room, still avoiding touching Steve.

“Buck?” Steve gently grabbed Bucky’s arm, frowning softly, “what’s wrong?”

Bucky met Steve’s eyes, his own troubled and guilty. “Never thought how maybe I was upsetting TJ.”

“Because we have sex?” Steve asked, looking confused.

“Because he has to listen to us. Makes studying hard, I’m sure.” Bucky sighed and shook his head. “And without his own outside friends, TJ’s cooped up in here.”

“Look, Buck,” Steve shook his head with a sigh, “TJ chose not to make friends or go out and hang out with kids from his school. I’m not saying ignore his complaints or whatever those were but we shouldn’t have to change our entire lives because TJ’s unhappy.”

Bucky let his head hang down. “I don’t know what to do for him. He’s growing quieter and more isolated, Stevie. I’m afraid he’s going to lock himself in the apartment and never go out, even to school.”

“He went out right now?” Steve pointed out softly.

“And came back bloody and secretive,” Bucky countered. “And annoyed with me.”

Letting out a sigh, Steve ran a hand down his face and said, “I think he was more embarrassed he burned the roast or wasn’t here to watch it . . . whatever. Look, Bucky, he’s a teenager, right? All teens are moody. TJ isn’t any different. Stop beating yourself up every time TJ has a bad day.”

Looking over to TJ in the kitchen area, Bucky nodded. “I just want him happy, Stevie.” His eyes fell to the dog and Bucky’s frown increased. “There’s blood on Luna . . .” worried, Bucky sank down and said, “Luna, come here.” He checked the dog over for injuries. “TJ? Did Luna get hurt on your walk?”

“Not that I know of? Don’t see how he could’ve gotten hurt,” TJ called back.

“You’re bloody and so’s Luna. What the hell happened, Teej?” Bucky frowned and looked over at his brother.

“It’s not our blood,” TJ looked out of the kitchen, towards his brother, with a soft frown. 

“Who were you fighting? Why?” Bucky rose and walked into the kitchen area, grabbing a cloth and wetting it then turning to wash the dog’s fur out.

“Only fighting the way you taught me how, Buck,” TJ tilted his head slightly, watching Bucky, “you said it was okay.”

“To defend someone. Who were you defending, Teej?” Bucky finished with the dog and stroked his soft ears.

“Why are you suddenly asking me like I’m some kinda trouble maker. Does it matter who I was protecting?” TJ shot back.

“I’m asking because, if you aren’t bleeding, and Luna’s not bleeding, _someone’s_ bleeding, TJ. I want to make sure no one comes along later accusing you of assault because you helped someone!” Bucky rose to his feet and walked over to his brother. “Why are you acting like you have to hide something? You know I’ve always supported you in protecting people and yourself.”

TJ’s eyes fell and he let out a breath, “I’m sorry . . . I just . . .” He looked at the ingredients on the counter he had laid out and suddenly changed what he’d been about to say, “we need more potatoes or carrots or something . . .” TJ tried to walk around Bucky. 

Stopping TJ with a firm hand, Bucky pulled his brother into a gentle hug. “Want to go pick some up for us? And maybe a bit of meat to add? We can try a stew or something?” Bucky deliberately buried any anger he felt towards TJ, every time; if he got angry at the teen, the man always buried it deep. “I love you, Teej, and am always proud of you, even if I worry like an old woman sometimes.”

Nodding, TJ hugged his brother in return before he pulled away, “love ya, too, Buck.” He gave his brother a small smile before heading towards the coffee jar to pull out the needed money for the groceries. “Luna, come,” TJ called, the dog hurrying to follow his owner out of the apartment.

Steve sighed and walked up behind Bucky, “I love you, Buck.” He stroked down Bucky’s spine, not voicing his opinions on how Bucky treated TJ. Sometimes, especially since TJ had hit puberty, Bucky let his little brother walk all over him, not standing his ground on certain aspects where Bucky really needed to.

Turning into Steve’s arms, Bucky cuddled close and whispered, “the apartment could have caught fire, Steve. He endangered everyone in this entire building!”

“And, why didn’t you tell him that?” Steve asked softly, his arms wrapped around his husband as he dropped a kiss to Bucky’s temple.

“He got so defensive, Steve. I don’t want him to think I hate him or anything. I just . . . he needs to be more aware, pay attention. I mean, taking Luna out for a walk is fine, rescuing guys even, but if he’s going to leave, he should have either turned off the oven or told us.” Bucky sighed and nuzzled Steve’s jaw then rested his chin near Steve’s temple, eight inches taller than his lover.

“Bucky, telling him that he was a little irresponsible isn’t going to make him feel like you hate him. If you don’t . . . _guide_ him, how will he figure things out. What if one day he wants an apartment of his own. He needs to learn how to live, Buck. And you’re right, he could’ve burned down the apartment, putting everyone out of a home and hurting, possibly killing, people,” Steve kept his voice gentle, letting Bucky nuzzle and cuddle for reassurance.

“Should I talk to him when he comes home? Or is that putting it off too long?” Bucky sounded uncertain how to deal with the situation, a reminder that he’d taken on raising his brother by the young age of seventeen, and for some things even younger.

“I think talking to him when he gets home wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Steve nodded, offering his husband a soft smile. “You’ve had to be TJ’s mother, father, and brother for so long, Bucky. I know it’s hard. I love you.” Steve gently kissed Bucky’s lips.

Bucky kissed back. “I love you, too, Steve. And, yeah, maybe we should rethink the entire baby thing. I don’t know if I can handle a baby any time soon,” he sighed.

“Bucky, I think you’d be an excellent parent and you’ve done amazing with TJ so far. It’s just you two have fallen into a . . . rut? Right now, I think he needs the paternal roll more than the brother roll, if that makes sense?” Steve stroked Bucky’s hair back from his forehead.

“Yeah, but how do I do that? I’m his brother, not his father, Stevie. I never will be his father. Not physically possible.” Bucky touched foreheads. “I love him so much, and I think I’m failing him.”

The door opened and TJ walked back into the apartment, Luna trailing right behind him. The brunet struggled with carrying the paper bag of groceries but managed to make it to the kitchen without a spill. “Sorry . . . didn’t mean to interrupt anything . . .” TJ murmured, glancing at the two lovers embraced in each other’s arms.

With a soft sigh, Bucky pulled away from Steve and said, “no interruption, Teej. We were talking is all.” He walked over to his brother and reached over to take the meat from the bag. “What are we having? Any ideas beyond stew or did you settle on stew, Teej?”

“I just got the beef that was on sale. It was pretty cheap, figured we could cube it up for a stew or something,” TJ replied with a shrug, pulling out some potatoes, carrots, and onions.

“Great idea. Teej, mind if I talk with you while you cook?” Bucky still allowed TJ to take over dinner, since he’d offered before.

Glancing at Bucky with a soft frown, TJ slowly nodded, “okay . . .” He hobbled over to grab his chair and he moved it over so he could start working.

Nodding, Bucky handed back the meat and took a paring knife so he could work on vegetables while TJ worked on the meat. “I’ve had time to think over how to address the events of earlier, TJ. We need to discuss what happened today.”

“I told you I was sorry . . . I forgot about the roast,” TJ replied, brows furrowing as he started working on the meat.

Nodding, Bucky asked, “did you forget about the roast before you left with Luna or after?”

“I don’t know?” TJ frowned, looking up at his brother.

Stopping, Bucky looked up, frowning, knife resting blade on the table. “I don’t _know_? TJ, that’s never been an acceptable answer for your behavior and decisions. You _know_ that. You are a thinking human who makes decisions.” Shock laced Bucky’s tones. “Not knowing when you forgot the roast and left the building, allowing dinner to burn . . .”

“Well, that’s a dumb question,” TJ frowned fiercely, meeting his brother’s eyes, “of course I wouldn’t know when I forgot about the roast or else I wouldn’t have forgotten it.”

Bucky stiffened. “Are you trying to say you have memory problems or attention problems, because by leaving that roast in the oven and leaving, you risked starting a fire and burning down the entire building, hurting dozens of people. So, you better think about when you last realized you were watching a roast in an oven, TJ.” Bucky’s voice sounded borderline angry at the way TJ seemed so flippant about such a serious lapse.

“Luna had to go out!” TJ frowned, watching Bucky’s features, “what’d you want me to do? Let him go inside?”

“Knock on the damn bedroom door and tell us? Take the roast out and turn of the oven while you were outside? Be _responsible_ , TJ!” Bucky finally snapped back. “My God, you aren’t an infant or a moron! _Think_!”

TJ flinched and nodded, swallowing thickly as he said, “you’re . . . you’re right I’m sorry . . . won’t happen again.”

Bucky reached out and cupped the back of TJ’s neck, pulling him close enough to touch foreheads, getting his breathing, his anger, back under control. “I know it won’t. You’re not stupid or heartless. You didn’t think this time. You will next. I believe you.” Bucky’s hand shook, still filled with the anger adrenaline.

TJ looked down, noticing that Bucky’s hand shook, and he frowned softly, “you’re shaking . . . I’m sorry, Bucky, really . . . I - - I didn’t mean to make - - to hurt anyone.” TJ sighed and dropped his eyes to the floor.

Nodding, still keeping his head pressed to TJ’s, Bucky whispered, “I know, baby. Now you’ll think twice. Let’s finish cooking dinner, okay?” Pausing, Bucky added, “I love you, so much, TJ.”

TJ nodded, worrying at his bottom lip. The fifteen year old looked guilty and embarrassed. “I - - I got dinner . . . if you and - - and Steve wanna . . . ya know.”

Nodding, Bucky said, “take you up on that offer another time. Why don’t we make dinner together and you can tell me who you were saving? I know you wouldn’t have forgotten otherwise.” Bucky let go of his brother’s neck and began to cut up vegetables once more.

“They were pickin’ on Jimmy Pickett again,” TJ answered softly, going back to cutting up the meat. “He was cryin’ and stuff and this other kid helped me . . .” TJ’s stomach fluttered as he remembered Tom and his pretty smile.

Blinking and looking up, intrigued, Bucky asked, “someone else defended Jimmy, too? Who? Do we know him?”

“His name is Tom and his grandpa owns the bakery right next to us. He’s Norwegian,” TJ answered, a soft flush on his cheeks.

“Mr. Andersson’s grandson? I didn’t know he had one.” Bucky studied his brother from the corner of his eye. Softly he asked, “and Jimmy’s okay?”

“He’s alright,” TJ shrugged with a sigh, “Tom’s fixin’ up his toy soldiers that got damaged.”

“This boy, Tom, knows how to repair toys?” Bucky wondered how he’d never noticed a boy hanging around at the bakery next door. “He sounds nice. Is he just visiting his grandfather?”

“No, he and his parents moved in when their bakery burnt down recently. They think someone set it on fire . . . probably ‘cause when they talk they kinda sound like Germans,” TJ sighed, shaking his head as he continued cubing the meat and putting the pieces in the pot.

“If they live next door, will we get to meet Tom?” Bucky suggested, glancing towards Steve finally, looking to see his husband’s reaction to everything.

Steve looked surprised yet happy that TJ might have finally made a friend. He gave an encouraging nod to Bucky.

“You wanna meet him?” TJ asked, finally looking up at Bucky.

Offering his brother a smile, Bucky nodded. “Of course. If he can impress my brother and defend the children like Jimmy, I’d love to meet him, Teej.”

“Maybe he can come over for supper sometime?” TJ suggested, looking hopeful.

“Definitely,” Bucky agreed. “Right, Stevie? TJ’s new friend, Tom, can come for dinner?”

“Of course. Any friend of TJ is a friend of ours,” Steve smiled at the brothers.

Bucky turned back to his brother. “So, what’s he like? He rescues people and fixes toys . . .” the older man hinted.

“He has to walk using a cane and has dark hair with really pretty green eyes,” TJ let out a sigh, smiling softly. “His accent is pretty neat, too.”

Teasing lightly, Bucky said, “like your prince? Dark and pretty and green eyed?”

Flushing, TJ looked down, ducking his head, “a little, yeah, but he don’t look just like him or anything.”

“Well, prince or no, he’s welcome here, baby.” Bucky chuckled softly.

Suddenly, TJ’s flushing face went completely blank, something that hadn’t happened in over a year, the knife slipping out of his hand, slicing the TJ’s palm before clattering to the floor. 

“Teej!” Bucky leapt over and grabbed TJ by the wrist, holding his hand up, wrist tight enough to stop any arterial bleeding in case the cut was dangerous. “Steve!”

The cut was pretty deep on the palm, going across the entire center of it, but it didn’t seem like any arteries had been nicked. TJ swayed a bit, his body completely lax, moving with how Bucky pulled him.

“What happened? I thought we’d solved this?” Steve leapt forward to offer assistance, watching the blood run down TJ’s arm.

Shaking his head, Bucky, sounding frightened, whispered, “I don’t know. He was so much better this year.” Bucky picked his brother up and carried him from the kitchen space to the couch, laying his brother down. “Can you stitch it or should I take him to a hospital, Stevie?”

“Do we have stitching supplies?” Steve asked, looking down at the wound on TJ’s palm.

“In your sewing supplies, if you still have enough?” Bucky answered, grasping TJ’s wrist again.

“Let me check,” Steve hurried off, heading into their bedroom in search for his sewing kit.

TJ’s pale eyes looked up at the ceiling, not focused on anything, not coming back despite the injury to his palm.

Shaking his head, Bucky held TJ’s wound above his heart to try to keep the blood flow minimal. He used his other hand to stroke his brother’s curls from his forehead. Softly, he spoke to TJ, trying to coax him back to awareness. “Your prince agreed, only when you were in bed at night so you wouldn’t get hurt. What happened, baby? What’s your prince need so desperately?”

Steve hurried back into the room, dropping to his knees at the same time that he opened the sewing kit. Grabbing TJ’s wrist gently, Steve looked at Bucky, “go get me a bowl of water and a cloth. I need to be able to see the cut to stitch it.” Steve didn’t seemed bothered as TJ’s blood dripped over his fingers. TJ still hadn’t snapped out of his daze, more lax and unresponsive than what either of them could remember.

Nodding, Bucky hurried to get cloths and a bowl of water. He came back and began washing TJ’s hand carefully yet quickly, aiding Steve in seeing what he needed in order to repair the injury. Sometimes they went to a hospital or doctor, but many times Steve cared for their injuries; he’d had good training from his mother.

Steve nodded, taking in the large cut through TJ’s palm, “any deeper and we’d have to take him to a doctor. I’m pretty sure I can stitch this up . . . won’t be playing piano for a little bit though.” Steve started tending TJ’s injury, glancing up at the teen’s blank features every so often. “Is this the longest he’s been out for?” Steve asked softly after he was about halfway done stitching up TJ’s palm.

“Unless it’s longer when he’s in bed, yes, this is his longest.” Bucky sounded just as worried as Steve, glancing at his brother again. “I don’t know what makes him dazed like this, Steve. He says he visits a friend, but . . . that’s just science fiction, right? Or . . . Spiritualism. Could he be a medium?”

“I don’t know, Buck, I’ve never heard of this happening to anyone before,” Steve frowned fiercely, “at first I thought it was just an imaginary friend or whatever but . . . I don’t want to take him to a doctor in this condition. They’d lock him up and call a priest, most likely.”

“Unless he’s really a medium and channeling the dead,” Bucky bit his bottom lip. “We saw one last year at the circus, remember? Maybe TJ’s one?”

“You really believe in that stuff, Buck?” Steve lifted his worried blue eyes to meet Bucky’s, pausing in his efforts of stitching TJ’s palm back together.

“I don’t know what to believe, Stevie. He talks about this friend, and the friend sounds so real. I don’t know.” Bucky shook his head and washed off more blood as Steve worked on TJ’s palm.

As Steve finished tying off the stitches, he looked at TJ’s face once more and said, “I’m half considering dumping cold water on him. Might wake him up?” Just the mention of the idea proved how freaked out Steve was by the display.

“Please, no? Give him a little time? Maybe he’s . . . visiting his friend and cold water might shock him too much? Don’t want him to slip into a coma or something.” Bucky didn’t understand medicine well enough to risk his brother’s health.

“Bucky, he just sliced his palm from one end to the other and then I stitched it without any numbing agent,” Steve looked at his lover, frowning fiercely, hands covered in TJ’s blood.

Bucky hugged himself and shook his head, tears welling. “I don’t know . . .” he wailed softly. “I don’t want them taking him away from us, Stevie.”

With a gasp, TJ jerked on the couch, blinking frantically as he looked around, eyes wide and searching for something. He didn’t seem to even register his injury yet.

“Baby?” Bucky instantly reached out to stroke TJ’s face. “Teej? Baby? You left during the day!” Fear laced Bucky’s tones.

“I - - I . . . He doesn’t wanna . . . he doesn’t wanna see me anymore,” TJ murmured, wide eyes meeting Bucky’s.

“What? Why?” Bucky asked, sounding stunned, confused but indignant on his brother’s behalf. “After all your loyalty?”

“I . . . I don’t know . . .” TJ whimpered, “I . . . he forced me back . . .” TJ looked around again, “he said I wouldn’t be visiting anymore.”

“Teej?” Bucky stroked his cheek again, “do you realize when he grabbed you, you got injured real bad? Steve had to sew you up. I thought he promised not to hurt you.” Bucky hugged TJ to him, feeling anger at the unknown _price_ rising.

“Sew me up?” TJ frowned softly in confusion and then the throbbing pain in his left hand finally broke through his panic. “Oh . . . ow?”

“And now he says you aren’t coming back? He doesn’t want to see you after hurting you?” Bucky shook his head. “Then he’s no true friend! He broke his promise.”

TJ met Bucky’s eyes, tears blurring those wide pale orbs. “I - - I don’t . . . he didn’t mean it . . . he’ll let me come back, right? He jus’ . . . he didn’t know I was cutting up meat . . . “

“And what’s his _excuse_ for telling you not to come back, baby? Couldn’t he even bother to explain his erratic behavior?” Bucky frowned fiercely.

“He . . . he said he’s isn’t good for me,” TJ whimpered, a few tears falling down his cheeks he didn’t bother to wipe away. “I told him that’s not true . . . then he forced me back.”

“He’s not good for you?” Bucky lowered his voice, the anger lessening. “He’s leaving you because he thinks he’s bad for you, Teej?”

“I - - I guess?” The fifteen year old’s bottom lip quivered and it was obvious he tried to keep himself together. He looked down at his hand and sniffled softly, “my hand hurts . . .” He breathed out but the cut had nothing on how much his heart hurt at that moment.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky enfolded his brother into a close hug, careful of the hand. “God, you poor thing.” He looked to Steve, “his prince ended their relationship, Steve,” he explained, still holding the fifteen year old close.

Blinking, Steve’s mouth dropped open, his eyes widening in surprise. Someone in TJ’s mind had . . . ended a relationship with him? How was that even possible? Steve didn’t know what to say, how to make TJ feel better.

“I - - I don’t know . . . I don’t know what I did,” TJ breathed out, hugging his brother tightly with his uninjured arm. “Was . . . was it because I forgot about the roast? I - - I’m sorry . . .”

“I doubt it, baby,” Bucky cooed. “I think it was because he realized just how dangerous his relationship with you is. After all, whenever you two visit, outside your mind it seems you’ve gone insane, staring at nothing for long periods, TJ. Maybe he finally realized you were in danger because of him?”

“But . . . then . . . shouldn’t I be the one to decide if - - if we can still see each other?” TJ held his left hand close to his chest, wishing the throbbing would stop.

“You said he’s not from our country. Maybe in his country, it’s up to the elder partner to decide? You’ve long said he was already fully grown, baby.” Bucky pulled back to cup TJ’s face, brushing hair from his brother’s eyes and forehead. “Maybe he didn’t realize just how much you were growing up and now decided that you aren’t a small child who is kept safely tucked at home, but a young man outside interacting with others. Maybe, he feels that others won’t understand?”

“I guess,” TJ sighed softly, pale eyes miserable, a few more tears falling down his cheeks. “Doesn’t matter, right? He wants to not see me anymore then I don’t care. He can just read and plan mischief all on his own.”

Bucky didn’t like the sound of this mystery man _planning mischief_ , but he let it go. Instead, he nodded and offered his brother a soft smile. “Want me to see if I have medicine for the pain, baby? In your hand?”

Nodding, TJ looked down at his hand, neatly bandaged, and then back up at Bucky, “is it okay if I nap after? I’m . . . I’m just tired right now.”

“If you agree to drink some orange juice. You lost a lot of blood, TJ, and need to replace that, okay?” Bucky got up to get some pain medicine they hoarded carefully. He came back with a glass of orange juice as well. “Here, I can hold it if it’s too hard for you, baby.”

TJ took the medicine first and then reached for the glass of juice, swallowing down the pill with a sip. “Thanks,” TJ murmured softly, taking another drink. The fifteen year old looked paler than normal and pretty shaken by what had happened.

Bucky nodded. “The juice will help with getting light-headed from blood loss. And I’ll get you to your bed, so don’t worry about it. I want you resting that hand for the next few days, TJ. I’m keeping you home from school and will send a note with Steve.”

“I’m in my bed,” TJ said, looking down at the couch he sat on. Luna whimpered and shuffled a little closer, obviously very nervous about his master’s health.

Nodding, Bucky nuzzled TJ’s temple. “Yes, of course. I ‘m so worried about you I’m discombobulated. Luna, good boy, come guard TJ while he rests.” Bucky reached out to stroke the husky’s ears.

Luna hurried over as soon as he was given the command and lay down right up against the couch, watching the surroundings intently. TJ finished his glass of juice and then set it on the table before laying down completely.

Steve let out a soft sigh and turned towards the kitchen, intent on cleaning up the blood from the initial injury.

After stroking his brother’s curls one last time, knowing Luna would lightly doze since he remained on guard, Bucky followed Steve into the kitchen area. He reached for the dinner supplies to start washing blood from the meat so he could put it in the ice box for later.

“Do you think he’s gonna be okay?” Steve asked softly, cleaning up the small pool of blood that had puddled under TJ’s chair. Steve knew Bucky would know that he wasn’t talking about TJ’s physical injury.

‘“Well,” Bucky sighed softly, “a lifelong friend has just abandoned him. One, I should add, TJ seemed almost in love with.” Looking at Steve, the brunet shook his head, pale blue eyes worried. “He’d heal better with a friend to help fill the void.”

“Maybe this Tom guy he was talking about?” Steve said, walking over to the sink to rinse out some of the blood that soaked the towel he used.

Nodding, Bucky said, “I’ll stop by the bakery and suggest the grandson visit TJ while he’s recovering. I’ll have to think of lessons to keep his mind distracted while his hand heals, too.” Bucky washed off the vegetables. “Hungry tonight, doll? I’m not.”

“Not right now,” Steve agreed with a shudder, “maybe later we can have some bread or something. I don’t . . . yeah, I’m not hungry,” Steve shook his head and sighed, “had that knife slipped and cut his wrist that deep? Mama said that cuts on the wrist can be deadly in minutes.”

“Hell, Steve, he also could have cut tendons in his hand making it useless. He was damned lucky, despite the blood loss,” Bucky growled. “As much as I ache for my brother's heart, that prince endangered him badly!”

“You really think it was a person? A real person? Not just someone in TJ’s mind?” Steve looked over at his husband, watching him.

With a sigh, Bucky nodded. “I believe a lot of that science fiction I read, Steve. We might not be there yet, but humans are capable of anything. Why wouldn’t someone be able to talk to another human over a long distance? I’ve heard things which seem so much more disbelievable. Back in ancient times, they were called prophets or oracles, people who could talk through the mind.”

“Well . . . let’s hope TJ doesn’t have any more episodes like that,” Steve shook his head, washing off his hands in the sink, trying to get TJ’s blood off of them. “Poor guy, though, he really did look heartbroken.”

“We all lose someone at least once. Let’s hope the next one is more steadfast now TJ is mature enough to respond?” Bucky put away the vegetables with the meat, in the ice box. He cleaned up the table.

After everything had been put away and cleaned up, Steve let out a breath and wrapped his arms around Bucky, “want to relax in the room? We can leave the door cracked open so we can hear if TJ needs us?” This let Bucky know that Steve did not expect sex, just wanted to cuddle and be with his husband.

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Bucky sighed and turned to touch Steve’s shoulder. “Hey, Stevie. I love you. I know I say it a lot, but I really do mean it, doll.”

“I love you, too,” Steve kissed Bucky’s lips, “and I’ll never get tired of hearing you say you love me. That you’re my husband . . .” Steve kissed again.


	14. The Worth of Boy or Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Self-doubt, Injury, Period-related homophobia, Intersex**
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> Second Note: thank you for your patience as we both dealt with real-world problems which limited our ability to edit (the story is written, it's editing now). All of you are appreciated and we really love our readers!

October 1, 1939:

Letting out a deep sigh, TJ rubbed at his eyes. He felt exhausted and his left hand still throbbed dully. Both Bucky and Steve had left for the day, leaving TJ alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t understand what he’d done to make his prince so upset, but the prince hadn’t visited him while he slept the night before and TJ felt on edge. For years he’d seen him every day, or close to it, and suddenly . . . it was like a piece of him had been torn away.

“Guys suck,” TJ said, looking down at Luna, who’s head perked up as TJ spoke to him. “You’re the only guy I need, Luna . . .” TJ reached down with his right hand to stroke his dog’s fur.

A knock came to the apartment door and Jimmy’s mother called out, “TJ, honey? The boy from yesterday was asking after you?”

Blinking, TJ looked over at the door and then down at Luna before reaching out with his right hand to grab his crutches. He frowned when he realized he couldn’t use both of them because of the injury on his left hand. Sighing, TJ precariously got to his feet using the single crutch, managing to hobble his way over to the door. Using just the fingers of his left hand, wincing as the movement tugged on his injury, TJ opened the door, “Mrs. Pickett? You said Tom’s askin’ for me?”

The woman smiled hesitantly. “The boy came to return some of Jimmy’s soldiers. He did a very pretty job of repairing them to almost new with a few painted on injuries Jimmy’s thrilled with. He’s down at my apartment since he said he didn’t know yours?”

“Oh, I thought I’d given him my apartment number, sorry, Mrs. Pickett. He can come up? I don’t know if I should go downstairs with only the one crutch,” TJ displayed his bandaged left hand for the woman, “Bucky told me I should stay inside for a few days.”

Nodding, Mrs. Pickett patted TJ’s arm and said, “I’ll go get him. Thank you again for always being so good to my boy. He’s such a sweet boy, even if he’s . . . slow.” The woman turned to go back to her apartment. Only moments later, Tom arrived, leaning on a very plain wooden cane, his right hand bandaged and holding the support device gingerly.

“We’re a matchin’ set,” TJ laughed softly, lifting his left hand once more before stepping back to allow Tom into the small apartment. Luna watched Tom with his large dark eyes, head tilting a bit, large ears straight and attentive. TJ shut the door after Tom walked in. “Your walkin’ stick ain’t completely ruined, right?” TJ asked softly.

“It can be repaired,” Tom smiled softly at TJ. “Thank you for allowing me to visit. I find my days get restless amd boring with no companionship. Mrs. Pickett said you are not permitted outside? Were you very badly injured?”

“Yeah, lost a lot of blood, I guess. Knife slipped,” TJ sighed and made his way over to the couch and eased down on it. He patted the spot next to him with his right hand, “Bucky don’t want me goin’ down the stairs on my own since I can only use one crutch until my hand heals. He’s ‘fraid I’m gonna fall.” TJ tilted his head a bit and looked over at the handsome teen, “do you not attend school?”

“Not until my former school writes to the present one to tell them of my achievements. My grandfather feels they will put me in classes too low to keep me occupied. I learn rapidly.” Tom settled next to TJ with a sigh, stretching his left leg out without bending the knee. “Thank you. My leg begins aching after only moments walking.”

“What happened, if ya don’t mind me askin’. If you don’t wanna tell me, you’re welcome to tell me to shut my trap,” TJ asked, pale eyes meeting vivid green. TJ’s stomach fluttered again as he was able to get a good look at Tom’s pretty features.

Laughing, a low, happy sound, Tom shook his head, black curls bouncing. “Actually, I was in an accident. My leg was trapped in twisted metal and they thought they might have to amputate it at the knee. Grandfather made them find another solution and so I walk on two legs, but the left never healed properly. Grandfather uses his money to pay my medical bills as a way to apologize, though I’ve explained that I am far better off than I may have been had he let them amputate.” The other teen smiled, seeming to look directly into TJ’s pale blue eyes.

“Yeah, I couldn’t imagine not havin’ both legs, even if one of them is a bother most the time,” TJ laughed softly, looking down at his right leg, the limb enclosed fully in the metal and leather brace. Over the years in the brace, the limb had straightened out a bit but it still remained weak and a little twisted. Lifting his eyes back up to meet Tom’s eyes, TJ said, “well, hopefully you go to the same school as me. You can ask the teachers to give ya a bit harder work than the other kids if ya need to. It’s what I do.”

Looking delighted, Tom asked, “you do advanced work, as well? Perhaps, if we are of a level, we can study together? I live over the bakery now so am rather close.”

Grinning, TJ nodded, “that’d be great, actually. How old are you, anyways?” TJ let his eyes trail down Tom’s form before snapping back up to look into his eyes once more.

“Sixteen. I’ll be seventeen in February, the ninth. And you?” Tom seemed just as interested in checking over his new friend’s physique.

“Fifteen. My birthday isn’t until August, the thirteenth,” TJ replied, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. He’d only felt them before when he visited his prince, but Tom definitely was pretty to look at and seemed to have a lot of the same interests as TJ.

“Then I am a year older, technically, though you look perhaps sixteen. You’re arms are quite strongly developed from your crutches.” Tom looked down TJ’s body then glanced at the beautifully kept husky. “And your dog is gorgeous. May I pet him?”

“Yeah, he’s real friendly. A real ham, actually,” TJ grinned down at Luna, who seemed to be watching the two teens intently. “He only growls and stuff when I tell ‘im to guard someone. My older brother, Bucky, taught me all the commands and stuff.”

“TJ, do you mind if I ask how your parents died?” Tom’s smile faded and his eyes looked worried.

Blinking, TJ looked over at Tom and he sighed softly, “Momma’s still alive but she lives with my two sisters in Indiana with our Aunt. My . . . my Papa . . . he - - he died in a car accident. Ran ‘im over after pushing me outta the way.” TJ looked down at his lap, right hand picking at the thread of his trousers.

Nodding, Tom lifted his hand and carefully laid the bandaged limb on TJ’s hand. “A brave and loving man to save his son. Not all parents would.”

Worrying at his bottom lip, TJ looked at Tom’s hand on top of his and then lifted his eyes to meet Tom’s, “yeah . . . yeah, I suppose,” TJ sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Do . . . do you have any siblings, Tom?”

Nodding, Tom lifted his hand, as if sensing TJ’s discomfort. “Yes, I do. I have a brother and sister, older than me and twins. They are seventeen. In fact, Christopher wishes to join the Army and Catherine wishes to design fashions.” Tom lowered his hand to his own lap this time.

Blinking, TJ looked at Tom’s hand and blurted, “I didn’t mind you touching me - -” as soon as the words left his mouth, TJ flushed bright red.

Looking surprised then smiling softly, Tom moved his hand back over TJ’s hand. “You don’t? That is good. I like touching you, TJ.”

“You do?” TJ asked softly, eyes wide, his tongue darting out to wet his plush lips nervously. “I . . . I like it when you do, too.” TJ swallowed thickly.

Tom met TJ’s eyes and softly said, “just so we both are clear, TJ. I like men . . . better than women. I know it’s considered wrong, so I won’t offer my attentions if it offends you. I just want an honest, open friendship with you.”

TJ didn’t say anything for a few moments before he leaned closer and pressed his lips to Tom’s, gently. TJ’s right hand stroked Tom’s inner wrist, his touch featherlight, much like how he’d touch his beloved piano.

Moaning very softly against the other boy’s mouth, Tom lifted his uninjured left hand to stroke TJ’s cheek, kissing back. He tilted his head and slowly opened his lips, letting his tongue caress over the seam of TJ’s lips, encouraging the other teen to open to him.

The fifteen year old let out a very soft keen as he opened his lips, letting Tom have access. His fingers moved all the way up Tom’s arm, to his shoulder, over the side of his neck before finally cupping the back of Tom’s neck to pull him closer. Tom’s touch and kisses felt so good and helped distract TJ from the pain of losing his prince the night before.

The front door of the apartment opened quietly, and Bucky stepped inside. He saw the boys on the couch, shock coursing through him. Hurriedly, Bucky slipped the rest of the way into the apartment and shut the door, thankful no one else had been in the hallway. Without interrupting TJ, Bucky removed his outerwear and headed towards the kitchen area as quietly as possible, wishing he’d been able to afford an apartment where TJ could have had a private room. He didn’t know the boy with TJ, but apparently TJ liked him a lot.

TJ pulled away, hearing footsteps, his lips flushed and a bit swollen as he called out, “Buck?” TJ flushed brighter when he realized that either Bucky or Steve had walked in on him kissing Tom.

“Yes, Teej. It’s Bucky. I’m going to work on dinner. Does your . . . friend want to stay to eat? Steve should be home soon.” Bucky flushed as much as his brother, knowing what it was like to try to find privacy with Steve at that age. He was not hypocritical enough to demand celibacy from his little brother.

“This is Tom . . .” TJ licked his lips, looking at Tom and then at his brother, “I - - I told you about him yesterday?”

Stepping out where he could see the teens, Bucky offered a welcoming smile, though he still blushed. “Welcome, Tom. Thank you for aiding TJ in saving Jimmy. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Tom looking from Bucky to TJ then back to Bucky, “yes, Sir, please? I would like that.” He sounded uncertain how to react with such acceptance, unsure if things would change soon.

Smiling sheepishly, TJ asked, “how’d the interview go, Buck?” He inched closer to Tom, his fingers stroking the top of Tom’s hand.

“I’ve been hired to the factory floor working on vehicles. When I told them my ambitions, they seemed impressed and said if I could find ways to improve their processes, let them know and they’d put the ideas before Mr. Stark himself.” Bucky thrummed in excitement. “And, Teej, they offered me a three dollar raise in a month if I can present at least one viable idea for either improvements to the vehicles or the process.” Bucky smiled widely at the teens. “I’d be almost at the pay level I was at for the newspaper.”

Smiling widely, TJ perked up, “that’s great, Buck! And you’ll be buildin’ stuff like you like to do. Maybe you’d be able to meet Mr. Stark himself!”

Nodding, Bucky rocked on his heels and said, “exactly. If I prove clever enough or hard working enough, I can meet him in a few months. I’ve brought home some chicken. I was thinking on roasting it?”

Humming happily, TJ leaned in closer to Tom as he said, “sounds great. A good celebratory meal. You’ll be promoted real quick, Buck, there ain’t no one smarter and more dedicated than you.”

Bucky nodded and turned to walk into the kitchen area but paused. Glancing over at TJ and Tom, he asked, gently, “you’re both being careful no one sees you? It’s . . . still illegal, baby. You know that, right?”

“That . . . that was the first time we’d kissed, Buck,” TJ replied softly, “I know it’s still illegal, we’ll be real careful.”

Relief crossing his pale eyes, Bucky offered a smile and Tom noticeably relaxed beside TJ. Bucky said, “Tom, you treat my boy right and you’re welcome here anytime. You break his heart or hurt him, and I will kill you. Simple as that.” Bucky turned to go to the stove.

Tom smiled, not looking worried by the very real sounding threat. “He reminds me of Grandfather. I like your brother. He cares for you as much as your Papa did.”

Smiling softly, TJ nodded, turning his head to nuzzle at Tom’s neck, “yeah, Bucky’s been carin’ for me since I was a baby. He’s a good brother.”

"And he understands you like men. It doesn't bother him morally?" Tom lifted his hand to caress TJ’s cheek and temple, turning his head to softly kiss TJ.

“Bucky . . . he’s like us,” TJ said softly, not pulling his face from Tom’s neck. 

“A fairy?” Tom asked softly. He didn’t sound derogatory, his tone matter of fact, accepting the term since no other came to mind.

Humming softly, TJ nodded and dropped a kiss to Tom’s shoulder and then collarbone. “Yeah . . . him and Stevie are married . . . well, that’s what they say.”

“How can two men be married?” Tom sounded interested. “Not by the church or the justice?” He caressed down TJ’s cheek and neck.

“I think they kinda exchanged vows with one another, kinda just between themselves, ya know?” TJ asked, lifting his head to look up at Tom, smiling happily.

“That sounds like a good way to commit if the law won’t allow it. As long as they were adults. I don’t think anyone should do things like this with a child.” Tom kissed TJ again, softly. “And that means I won’t do more than kiss and cuddle, TJ. Okay? Not until we’ve grown up, if we’ve agreed to stay together.”

Nodding, not looking upset at what Tom told him, TJ agreed, “yeah, that makes sense. I like kissin’ and cuddlin’.”

Bucky suddenly walked into the living room area and said, “TJ, will you and Tom help me reposition the furniture here? I think your bed by the wall where the door is might be better. No one coming in will see you right off . . .” He met his brother’s eyes, worry in his own.

Looking over, TJ tilted his head slightly and asked, “you wanna move the couch by the door?”

Nodding, Bucky repeated, “so people coming in don’t see your bed right off. It might give you a little more privacy? Maybe we can put up some kind of curtain?”

Blinking, TJ looked down at the couch and then the corner that Bucky wanted to move it to. TJ wasn’t sure it’d actually fit, the corner was pretty small. “Okay, Buck,” TJ agreed after a moment.

“Or,” Bucky studied the dimensions of the room, “a curtain and not move the couch? I wish I could give you a private bedroom, Teej. I’m so sorry . . .”

TJ looked up at the ceiling above him and frowned a bit as he studied it, “how’d we hang a curtain?”

Tom continued to stroke TJ’s neck and shoulder. He softly suggested, “maybe build a freestanding wall on supports that can be pulled in front of the couch?”

Bucky blinked and studied Tom before nodding. “That could work. What do you think, Teej?”

“Buck, are you really worried ‘bout someone seein’ us?” TJ asked softy, meeting his brother’s eyes.

Bucky walked over and dropped to his knees to grab his brother’s uninjured hand, meeting his eyes, ignoring Tom for the moment. “If someone had been in the hall when I came in, you and Tom would have been in clear view, baby. Yeah, I’m terrified someone will see you.”

“And . . . we’d be arrested or killed if someone saw us?” TJ sighed, shaking his head with a soft frown.

“A very big possibility, TJ. Yeah,” Bucky nodded, watching his brother’s face in concern.

“Why can’t people just leave other people alone? Why do people feel the need to tell others what’s acceptable and what’s not?” TJ scrunched up his nose, fingers tapping against his thigh in agitation.

With a sigh, Bucky shook his head. “I don’t know, but I wish they’d leave things alone. As long as no one is hurt and no children involved, we should be left alone.” Bucky looked to Tom then back to TJ. “I’m sorry, Teej. I wish I could have done better for you.”

“Better for me? Whatcha talking about, Buck?” TJ asked, frowning softly as he met his brother’s eyes.

“A bedroom, for starters,” Bucky sighed. “A better example than the one I provided? More friends?”

“A better example? Ain’t no one better than you, Buck,” TJ insisted with a deep frown, “and I don’t need no bedroom, my couch is jus’ fine. It’s always been fine. I don’t care, Buck. Don’t go talkin’ down on yourself, ya hear?”

Bucky placed his forehead on TJ’s and breathed in. “I can’t help wanting all the best for you, TJ.”

“Well, sure, that’s fine. But, I won’t have you talkin’ down on yourself. So, quit it. I’m perfectly fine. Tom and I will figure somethin’ out,” TJ reassured his brother, “you’re the best big brother there is.”

Nodding, Bucky pulled back and stroked TJ’s cheek. “Okay, but I’ll ask Steve what he thinks about the wall idea just a few feet in front of the door.”

“Are we even allowed to build another wall? Mrs. O’Reilly won’t mind?” TJ asked.

Tom finally interrupted again. “Well, what I imagine is a piece of wood not quite ceiling high with little stands on the bottom so it can stand up but be moved freely?” He smiled at TJ. “Then it can be put out of the way or in front of a window or the couch or the kitchenette. It won’t damage the apartment structure in the least.”

“Where in the world will we keep a fake wall when its not being in use?” TJ questioned, looking around the already tiny apartment.

Bucky heard the sound of someone working the knob of the front door. He stood and headed for the door, asking, “what about a frame with a thick curtain in it? The frame could be folded up out of the way. Like in the shop in Chinatown we saw.”

“This seems like it’ll just cost a lot of money,” TJ frowned softly.

The door opened and Steve stepped inside, looking surprised as Bucky literally stood right in front of it. “Oh, hey, Buck . . .”

Bucky smiled and took Steve’s hand, tugging him inside so he could shut the door, blocking sight of the teens from the outside hallway. “Hey, Stevie. This is Tom, TJ’s friend. We’ve got lots to talk about, doll.” He didn’t try to hide the fact that Tom had his hand on TJ’s neck, stroking lightly.

Steve looked over to the couch and his eyes widened and he looked back at Bucky, “I suppose we do?”

“First, TJ and Tom are close, like we are. Second, I’m interested in some kind of wall or curtain to give TJ more privacy from the front door, but TJ seems dubious about the idea. Third . . .I got the job?” Bucky vibrated again in renewed excitement.

Grinning happily, Steve hugged his husband, “that’s great, Buck! Congrats! A manufacturing job?”

“In the vehicle area with promotion and money increase possibilities. They like my enthusiasm and said they’d reward me for my ideas.” Bucky hugged Steve once more then turned to head for the kitchen area. “I’ve got chicken for roasting?”

“Sounds like a really good opportunity, Buck,” Steve said, following his husband towards the kitchen.

Turning and dropping his voice, Bucky bit his lip and said, “if I get into the development area like I want, it might include travel, Stevie. To go with Mr. Stark across seas.”

Blinking, eyes wide, Steve asked, “does TJ know that little bit?”

“Not that bit, no,” Bucky sighed. “I didn’t tell him that yet. It’s a way off before they put me in development. I have to prove myself, my ideas.”

“Well, we’ll just have to deal with that part when it comes,” Steve said, leaning up to kiss Bucky’s lips. “I’m proud of you, Buck.”

Leaning into Steve’s kisses, Bucky whispered, “thanks, Stevie. I’m so excited to go work for Mr. Stark. The factory is amazing in itself!” He slipped his arms around his husband and sighed. “TJ’s like us . . . I wish I’d thought to not give him such an example. It’s going to be a dangerous life for him.”

Frowning a bit, Steve looked up at Bucky, “you blame yourself for him liking men?”

“Steve, we’ve been a lifelong example of men in love. We’ve provided no alternate for TJ to learn from. How could he _not_ like men?” Bucky sighed, burying his face in Steve’s neck and shoulder.

“Buck, he had your parents to look to and pretty much every other couple he came into contact with,” Steve pointed out, wishing Bucky would stop blaming himself for every single thing.

With a sigh, Bucky lifted his face. “But you know what the doctors say about guys like us.”

“They can all go fuck themselves,” Steve snapped and shook his head, “look, Bucky, you aren’t to be blamed for every single thing. You’re always so guilty and so worried and it hurts me to see.”

Bucky flushed and bowed his head. “I can’t help it, Stevie. I _feel_ guilty for everything. How can I _stop_ feeling guilty when I already feel that way?”

Sighing softly, Steve shook his head, “I don’t know, Buck. I wish I could help you . . . but, all I can do is be here for you.”

Bucky sighed. “I’ll . . . I’ll work on it, but I’m not sure how.” Stroking a hand down Steve’s chest, over his shirt, Bucky asked, “how was work, doll?”

“It was good, should be done with this job by tomorrow,” Steve reported.

Smiling, Bucky lifted his eyes and stole a quick kiss. “What about the idea of a way to protect TJ’s privacy from the front door?”

“The privacy curtain sounds like a good idea,” Steve nodded, giving Bucky a smile.

“TJ thinks it’ll be too expensive, but I don’t think so. If we build it ourselves, Steve, we can use some scrap wood and some sturdy nails and a thick quilt. The only thing we’d have to pay for is the nails.” Bucky looked pleased with the idea he suggested.

“Sure, Buck, that sounds good,” Steve agreed, kissing Bucky’s lips again.

**************

November 17, 1939:

Bucky frowned as he listened to Mrs. O’Reilly talking about a new method to work on clubfoot patients. She raved about a doctor who kept speaking with her nephew about special bracing needed. Finishing, the woman beamed happily at TJ then Bucky.

TJ looked up at Bucky and then at the woman, “so . . . they don’t cut you open?”

Smiling, Mrs. O’Reilly shook her head. “No cutting at all. Dr. Kite’s methods involve casts and braces, similar to the one you wear already. He’s renowned around the world and his methods work on children with clubfoot!”

TJ looked back at Bucky, “do you think it’d work?”

Meeting his brother’s eyes, Bucky rubbed a hand over his face, thinking. Slowly, he said, “we can talk to this doctor at least. See what he says? You’re not exactly a little kid.”

Sighing softly, TJ looked down at his leg enclosed in the brace and said, “yeah . . . you’re probably right. Wouldn’t work on me. I’m too old now.”

“I didn’t say it won’t work, Teej,” Bucky let out a worried chuckle. “I meant that his method might have to be different because you’re older. We can talk to him and find out, right? No harm in talking with him if you want to.”

“He . . . he could maybe fix my leg, Buck,” TJ said, looking up at his brother, “I wanna try.”

Smile widening, Bucky patted TJ’s hand. “Then we’ll talk to Doctor Kite and see what he says. You said,” Bucky turned to their landlady, “that he comes in regularly? When is he due next?”

Smiling in eager pleasure, the older woman said, “this afternoon! He’s going to come in to see how my nephew’s come along in helping design the braces.”

**************

November 17, 1939, evening:

In the middle of the night, long after everyone had gone to bed, Bucky and Steve were woken by soft whimpers of pain. They had spent almost thirty minutes before bed that night binding up TJ’s right foot in the way Dr. Kite had said to, with TJ’s toes pointed up and foot turned slightly outwards. Steve thought it looked painful but TJ seemed to be fine and had told them to go to bed. 

Bucky turned over and listened carefully. After a few more minutes, he shook his head and climbed from his bed, putting on his robe and slippers. Quickly leaving the bedroom, Bucky made it to TJ’s side and knelt down. “Baby? Teej, you okay?”

TJ’s skin was pale and sheened with a thin layer of sweat. He shook his head and then nodded and then shook it again. “I - - I’m fine . . .” TJ’s entire right leg trembled pretty noticeably.

Bucky looked over his little brother and sighed, “TJ, that’s hurting you, isn’t it, baby?”

“I . . . I’m okay, jus’ - - jus’ gotta get used to it,” TJ replied shakily, back arching off the bed as a painful spasm ran up from the tips of his toes to his hip.

“Maybe you can get used to it a little at a time?” Bucky asked, worried. He didn’t touch his brother, but he wanted to rip off the cast to free the twisted leg, hating the sound of pain in TJ’s voice, the shudders that wracked the teen’s body.

“The . . . the doctor said it had to stay on all night,” TJ breathed out. Luna whimpered, sitting up and watching his master with worry.

Nodding, silent for a long moment, Bucky finally hugged TJ and asked, “want some of the pain medicine we have left?”

TJ couldn’t help the cry that burst from his lips, though he quickly tried to turn his head to muffle the sound in the couch cushions. His leg spasmed again, jerking the entire limb. TJ’s left hand gripped the edge of the couch so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Bucky’s frown increased and he called out, “Steve? Come here. Need you to see this.” He stroked TJ’s curls.

Steve hurried out, tying his robe shut. “What’s wrong?” He asked, coming up to the couch.

“TJ’s leg is spasming, very painfully. What do you think?” Bucky asked. He glanced at his husband.

Steve watched TJ for a few moments before be said, “take it off, honestly. It shouldn’t be causing him this much pain. I thought he might be too old for this particular procedure.”

Nodding. Bucky got up and got the scissors. He came back and started cutting off the ties that kept the cast in place, the wrappings. “It’s okay, Teej. We’ll get the pain to stop.”

“But . . . but the doctor said . . .” TJ’s face scrunched up in pain and he let out a soft sob that he tried to muffle once more, his hand still gripping the couch so tight.

Once Bucky got the bindings clipped he eased the cast off TJ’s leg, making sure not to twist the limb any further than it had already been. Tossing the cast to the floor, Bucky began to carefully massage TJ’s limb. “Steve? Maybe warm water and lotion?”

“Yeah, I’m on it,” Steve nodded, hurrying to the kitchen to heat up the water.

TJ let out another sob but this time he’d managed to hide his face before the noise left his lips. His leg continued to spasm a bit, the strained muscles trembling violently.

“Steve? Some pain pills, too, doll? His leg’s still spasming.” Bucky continued to massage the twisted limb, watching his brother’s pain, as silent as TJ tried to keep it. “My poor baby. I’m so sorry, baby. We tried. I wish it’d worked for you.”

Shaking his head, TJ kept his face buried, out of sight of his brother.

Steve came back with the warm water, lotion, and pain medicine. He crouched down and whispered, “how is he doing?”

“It’s heartbreaking to see him like this, doll. He hoped it would work. Dr. Kite said he wasn’t too old for it, but . . .” Bucky let Steve wash down TJ’s leg, smoothing lotion on his own hands to warm.

Letting out a sigh, Steve nodded and said, “that probably hurts more than the pain.”

“It hurts the worst,” Bucky agreed, watching as his husband tended his brother. “Teej, baby, you’ll be okay. We’ll tell Dr. Kite to warn others that teenagers are too old. This can help others not go through this pain at least.”

“Jus’ wanted to be . . . be normal,” TJ sobbed softly, still keeping his face hidden away, the spasms easing at least.

Nodding, Bucky let Steve dry TJ’s leg then moved in to massage the lotion into the twisted flesh, deep into the muscles. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry it didn’t work.” He leaned over and kissed TJ’s cheek. “I love you, Teej. We both love you so much.”

“I’m always gonna be like this, aren’t I?” TJ asked, his grip on the couch relaxing as the worst of the pain subsided.

“Most likely, Teej,” Bucky agreed softly. He massaged again and said, “is it truly that bad, baby? I know it’s not like everyone else, but you move so much better than you did when you were little, so much better than others with clubfoot.”

Without saying anything, TJ pulled his leg out of Bucky’s hold and turned his body so his back faced both Steve and Bucky. Luna whimpered again, shifting from foot to foot, looking at Bucky as if the eldest master held all the answers.

Bucky wiped his hands on a towel and sat back on his feet, watching his brother, heart aching for the teenager. Softly, he said, “I’m sorry I don’t know how to help, baby.” He stood, brushing a hand through TJ’s curls, then turned for the kitchen despite the very early hour.

Steve followed, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist from the back and dropping a kiss to his husband’s neck. “I love you,” Steve said softly.

Nodding, Bucky replied, just as softly, “I love you, too, Stevie. I know there’s nothing I can do. Is it bad that I feel angry at that damned doctor?”

“No, that doctor knew TJ was too old. Mama told me about him once, said all this patients were around the ages of three to six. He put TJ through that, got his hopes up, for nothing,” Steve sounded angry himself.

“Then he’s a bastard money-hungry thief. I’m going to report him for this.” Bucky sounded angry, eyes narrowing. His back stiffened though he didn’t pull out of his lover’s arms. “At the least, his patients should be wared his methods are not for older children or adults!” Turning his head, Bucky said, “and I’m going to look into if _any_ of his patients really got any better or if he’s been lying. Damon would love a story like this!”

Nodding, Steve stroked his hand down Bucky’s back, dropping another kiss to the base of his spine. “You were supposed to find out if you got that promotion today? You never told us, Buck. Did they like your ideas to improve efficiency at the factories?”

Bucky turned slowly in Steve’s arms and said, sounding distracted, “yeah. I got a three dollar raise. Making almost as much as when I worked for Damon now.” He buried his face in Steve’s neck and breathed in his lover’s calming scent. “I love you, Stevie.”

“I love you, too,” Steve turned his head to drop a kiss to Bucky’s temple. “Congrats on the promotion.”

“I need to find a way to help Teej, Steve. Maybe not physically, I know, but somehow find a way to get him where he wants to be in life. Has he mentioned any career goals or ideas to you?” Bucky sounded strangely determined.

Sighing, Steve shook his head, “no, not that I know of? Maybe . . . maybe you can talk with Damon? TJ can work in the office? Even if it’s just a first job to show him that he _can_ work.”

Lifting his head, looking surprised, Bucky slowly smiled and laughed. “My God, doll, you’re pure genius! Of course Damon would let him work. The typesetter does more sitting than walking and Damon said he’s afraid the man he’s got right now wants to walk out to work for the News instead since it’s a bigger paper. I can ask Damon tomorrow if he’ll give TJ a chance? TJ’s smart enough to learn to set type backwards and check spelling and grammar of all articles so it prints well.” Bucky hugged Steve. “I love you so much!”

Laughing, Steve hugged back and kissed his husband on the lips, “yeah, I got a few good ideas every now and again. I think it might give TJ the confidence he needs.” Steve stroked his hand up Bucky’s side, feeling the soft swell of Bucky’s breast under his fingertips.

Mewling at the stimulation, Bucky kissed his husband back and whispered, “I’ll tell him tomorrow to get ready for an interview.”

“Good,” Steve purred, moving his hand so he could caress Bucky’s nipple through the fabric of the robe. “So pretty . . .”

Purring into Steve’s mouth, Bucky mewled, “so strong. So beautiful. My Stevie.” His husband had always been small and delicate seeming, but Bucky knew the strength, the determination behind the pretty, delicate features.

**************

November 18, 1939:

“Teej, baby, wake up,” Bucky spoke from right beside the couch, studying the boy’s leg from a distance, making sure the torture of the night hadn’t permanently disabled him. “Now, Teej. We’ll be late. Get up and get dressed.”

“Late for what?” TJ murmured, groggily lifting his head and blinking several times to get used to the light.

“I’ve finally opened my ears about your complaints and stuff. You say we have no money and that you’re not normal, and I’m going to do something about that.” Bucky grinned to take away any sting. “I’m going to help you go to job interviews so you can get a job and help out with the bills.”

“Job interviews?” TJ looked confused, his mind trying to catch up with his brother, “what?” The brunet sat up, wincing a bit as his right leg screamed at him. The muscles were very sore.

Squatting down, Bucky offered TJ his sunday clothes and a pain pill. “Want help getting into your brace, Teej?”

TJ nodded, slipping out of his shirt, revealing a rather toned chest. The boxing lessons he’d been doing with Bucky really were bulking him up. The brunet didn’t ever really take his shirt off around the house so it had been some time since Bucky had seen TJ’s chest.

Relief suddenly crossed Bucky’s features and he reached out to stop TJ, studying his brother’s definitely totally masculine body. “Thank God . . .”

Blinking, TJ looked at Bucky and then down at his chest, “thank God? Something wrong?”

“Nothing wrong, baby, perfectly fine.” Bucky lifted a smile to his brother. “You don’t have breasts. Thank God, you’re not ever going to have to go through this,” he gestured towards his own curves under his loose clothing which he’d have to bind before going with TJ for interviews.

Eyes softening a bit as he looked over Bucky’s body and then lifted his eyes to meet Bucky’s, TJ said, “I wish we lived in a world where you could have the surgeries or whatever you needed to be who you are on the inside, Buck.”

Nodding, Bucky said, “so do I, baby.” He hugged TJ. “You get ready for your interviews. I’m going to go get dressed. We’ll get some breakfast then go across and try the newspaper first.” Bucky rose to his feet and smiled down at his brother before turning for the bedroom.

After TJ got dressed, he waited for Bucky to come back out so they could go do some interviews. TJ felt excited at the prospect of getting a job. He never thought he’d be able to get one.

Bucky came out, chest bound under his working clothes. He smiled and headed for the kitchen. “Steve’s coming out in a moment, Teej. Would you like some juice and toasted bread with jam?”

“Sure,” TJ nodded, grabbing his crutches and moving towards the kitchen.

Bucky quickly made them a light breakfast, eating with his brother as Steve came out to join them. Within moments, the elder brother stood and said, “ready, Teej?”

TJ nodded, “yeah, I’m ready,” he grabbed his crutches and stood up as well. “Have a good day, Steve,” he said.

“Yeah, you, too. Good luck on the interview,” Steve called back.

Bucky leaned over and kissed Steve’s temple, “be back for lunch, doll. Have a good day.” He turned and lead his brother out of the apartment, down the steps and across to the newspaper office. Walking in, letting TJ follow, Bucky called, “”We’re here to see Damon, please, Vivian.”

The secretary looked up and nodded, standing and walking over. She looked over TJ and said, “wow. You’ve grown up, haven’t you?”

Flushing a bit, TJ nodded, “yes, ma’am. You . . . you’re as pretty as I remember, ma’am.”

Laughing, she said, “and sweet. Go into the office. He’s waiting.” She turned her smile on Bucky, checking out his ass before going back to her own desk.

TJ walked into the office, remembering exactly where it was, “good morning, Sir,” TJ called.

Damon stood and came over to the pair of brothers. He shook Bucky’s hand then offered his hand to TJ. “TJ, Bucky, it’s good to see you again. I understand Bucky’s doing well in his new position?”

Bucky agreed then gave TJ’s lower back a very light push. “TJ would like to interview for a job, Damon. We thought we’d apply here first since I heard you might have a position opening soon?”

Damon turned a smile on TJ and said, “oh? You want to work for the newspaper?”

Setting his shoulders back a bit, TJ nodded, “yes, sir. I learn real fast and will do a good job.”

Damon nodded, “how far have you gotten in school, TJ?” He smiled and gestured towards a chair to sit in.

“I’m in my tenth year, Sir, but I am doing the work of the twelfth year students,” TJ informed Damon as he eased into the chair that the older man had gestured to.

“Good, good. Have you ever dealt with typesetting? Most people haven’t.” Damon smiled, looking well pleased so far.

Shaking his head, TJ said, “no, I haven’t, but I use to watch Bucky do it and I’m a fast learner.”

Nodding, Damon stood and headed towards Bucky’s old office. “Come along. I’ll let you get used to the location of all the type and then put you to a test. If you can correctly put together a specific article for printing, you’ve got the job. Once you’ve looked over the drawers of type and the article I want printed, you’ve got an hour. Okay?”

TJ nodded, getting to his feet and following Damon out of the office. Once he looked over everything, he started, even finding and fixing a few errors. He finished within forty-five minutes. Not helping at all, Bucky had remained in the office with Damon, leaving TJ to work in privacy. However he came by to check on his brother and smiled. “Proofread, Teej? Never hurts.”

TJ nodded, looking over the article in his hands, reading through it a few times before he nodded, “I think it’s good?”

“Okay, leave the tray of type right there on the work table and go get Damon to come check it. I made a mistake of carrying the tray to him, tripped, and had to start over.” Bucky stepped out of the way to let his brother go to the boss.

TJ nodded, setting the tray down carefully before going to get Damon to bring him back to look over his work.

After the editor looked over the work TJ had done, he turned to the fifteen year old and asked, “you did want a full time job, right? It means dropping out of school, TJ, to work for me eight hours a day.”

Blinking, TJ looked over at Bucky.

Bucky smiled at his brother proudly. “You can think about it before committing, Teej. We can interview at other places, too, if you’d like. But, if you want this job, you already know what kind of boss and pay you’ll be getting.”

“What about the piano?” TJ asked softly, proving the only real reason he still went to school was to play the instrument he loved.

“We can ask Mr. Conners if he’ll let you go after work to continue working on your piano?” Bucky offered. “You’ll find, TJ, that most men are reasonable if given a chance.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to Mr. Conners first?” TJ asked, looking back to Damon.

Damon nodded and said, “if you head that way, you’ll only have missed an hour of school. You can tell me later what you’ve decided.” Winking, Damon offered a hand to TJ, “you know where to find me.”

“Thank you, Sir,” TJ shook Damon’s hand with a smile.

“Thank _you_. If you come to work for me, you’ll be helping me with a very big problem. My typesetter has said he’s leaving in a week to go to another, larger paper. If you can work for me, I already know I’ll get a hard worker who is dedicated to doing a good job.”

Letting his hand drop, TJ nodded, “okay, Sir. I’ll come by after school to let you know either way.”

“Thank you, TJ. And think hard about it. Walking away from a job isn’t as easy as you might think. You won’t get hurt or hunted down, but it’s a matter of honor and responsibility. If you don’t feel ready, don’t do it.” Damn patted TJ’s back and turned to shake Bucky’s hand. “Thanks for thinking of me for his first job offer. I’d love to have your brother work for me!”

Bucky nodded, shook hands, then led his brother out. “Want me to walk you to school, Teej?” he asked.

“No, I can get there on my own,” TJ replied.

“Have Tom’s papers come through yet? Has he started there?” Bucky asked, tilting his head as he looked to the younger brunet.

“Yeah, last week,” TJ smiled happily at the thought of his boyfriend.

“Will it be hard to leave school because he’s there now?” Bucky asked softly.

“He lives right across the way,” TJ pointed out, looking at Bucky.

Nodding, Bucky said, “that’s right. Above the bakery. Well, you enjoy school. I’ll see you for lunch.” Bucky stopped walking right in front of the apartment building and smiled at his brother. “And no matter what you decide, I’m proud of you.” Even if TJ didn’t accept the job, just knowing he was acceptable, just having been offered a man’s job, would boost the boy’s self-worth.

TJ smiled and waved at his brother before turning and continuing down the way for school.


	15. The Volcano Blows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Referenced sexual trauma, Period-common Homophobia, Physical Injury and Limitation, Angst, Anger, Resentment, Self-Doubt, Possible Pregnancy**

May 25, 1941: 

Bucky remained sitting in the bleachers of Ebbets Field, allowing the crowds to leave the baseball stadium now the game had ended. The Dodgers had won against the Phillies, seven to four, and the thrill still seemed to hum through the stragglers in the bleachers. It had been an epic game and Bucky couldn’t stop smiling. He turned to watch the reactions on Steve’s then TJ’s faces, seeing Tom’s equally enthralled expression from his seat on the other side of TJ. “Wow,” Bucky finally said, laughing a bit.

Tom turned to TJ and leaned closer, whispering, “ever seen a real wolf?” In the two years since Tom and TJ had met while rescuing Jimmy Pickett, the boyfriends had gotten closer, revealing personal desires and fears.

Looking over at Tom, smiling widely, TJ shook his head, “no, never. Have you?” TJ pushed his newsboy cap back a bit so it settled right on his head. 

“Once, in a zoo,” Tom responded. “I saw three. They were beautiful and I knew they should never be caged. You, TJ, remind me of those wolves. Loyal yet needing freedom.”

TJ flushed a bit, ducking his head as a smile graced his lips, “thanks? I think? That was a compliment, right?” TJ glanced back up at his boyfriend. 

Nodding, meeting TJ’s pale blue eyes with his own vivid green, Tom said, “very much so, TJ. Wolves are the most noble creature I’ve ever seen.”

Looking up at Tom, licking his plush lips, TJ smiled, “thanks, Tom. You’re a great guy, too.” There was some scruff on his cheeks, so much different than the little facial and body hair that Bucky was able to grow, furthering the differences between the two brothers.

“Now that our team won, do we have further plans today, TJ?” Tom asked, keeping his voice low. “Or would you like to come to the bakery for dinner?” Tom had his own room where the pair had been able to cuddle and kiss in privacy over the past year or so.

Glancing over at Bucky, TJ asked, “can I go over to Tom’s for dinner, Buck?”

Turning to smile at his little brother, Bucky studied the sixteen year old for a brief moment. Finally, he nodded, “sure, Teej. Tell Tom’s family we said _hello_ , okay?” He patted TJ’s hand briefly.

“Thanks, Buck,” TJ grinned, grabbing his crutches and pushing himself to his feet. “Can you let Luna out when you guys get home?”

“I’ll take him for a walk, don’t worry,” Bucky chuckled. “Go, be young and have fun. Come back safe. Steve? Looks like dinner for two tonight.”

Grinning, TJ called back, “thanks, Buck, love ya!” And then he glanced up at Tom, starting to maneuver his way through the stands, towards the exit. “Do you think your parents and grandpa will need anything for supper, Tom?”

“I don’t think they will, but we can look at a few stalls on the way home?” Tom asked, following his secret boyfriend through the bleachers, using his cane to support him on his twisted left leg. “What do you have in mind?”

As they walked, two girls from Tom’s grade came up in front of them, smiling, “heya, Tom,” one of them greeted. She had auburn hair pulled back from her face and wore a pretty blue dress.

Lifting his hat politely in greeting, Tom bowed slightly at the shoulders and said, “Miss Abigail. How are you on this fine May day?”

“Very well,” Abigail blushed a bit, the color rising to her pale cheek, “Dolores and I were jus’ wondering if you might be busy tonight? There are several of us going to the dance hall. I know you can’t dance long but it should still be a fun time.” She glanced over at TJ and offered him a polite, friendly smile before looking back at Tom.

“Actually, I am already engaged for the evening, Miss Abigail. My good friend, Thomas, and I are having dinner with my grandfather and parents. Have you met Thomas Barnes? TJ, this is Miss Abigail and Miss Dolores, from my class in school. Literature, I believe.” Tom smiled politely at the girls, looking friendly enough.

Bowing his head in greeting, TJ said, “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting such pretty ladies. A pleasure.” TJ grinned as he lifted his head to look at the girls.

Abigail laughed and smiled, “awe, pleasure to meet you, Thomas. Well, maybe next time then, Tom?” She looked back up to the older boy.

Chuckling, Tom nodded and bowed again, “perhaps next time, ladies. A good afternoon and safe journey to your destination.” Tom straightened and began leading TJ away from the girls, still smiling as they left the girls behind.

“You coulda gone, I wouldn’t have been sore on ya,” TJ said softly, walking with Tom, his crutches hitting the pavement with a soft _clinking_ noise. TJ never got upset if Tom ever wanted to be with his friends from school. TJ knew Tom was a friendly man and very good looking and, since TJ had stopped going to school nearly two years before to accept Damon’s full time typesetter position, he knew that Tom made other friends. Luckily, Mr. Conners still allowed TJ to practice on the school piano everyday after TJ got off work; that had been the only thing keeping TJ from accepting the job right away. The school had been generous with TJ, giving him credits of graduation since he’d been so far above his grade in his work, so he wasn’t considered a _drop out_.

Smiling at TJ, Tom said, “I never break a commitment, TJ. You had prior claim, which I am delighted by. Really. I don’t prefer the dance hall to alone time with you.” Leaning closer a bit, Tom whispered, “the other way ‘round, actually.”

TJ flushed and licked his plush lips, looking down at the ground for a few moments before lifting his eyes once more. “Thanks . . .” Clearing his throat, TJ looked around, trying to remain casual while they were in public, “so, whatcha think of everything that’s happenin’ in Europe?” TJ had been kept pretty well informed about the developing war due to his job at the newspaper.

Tom nodded at TJ’s intelligent question, knowing TJ would have his own well-developed opinions; he wouldn’t ask the question merely to pass time or distract Tom. “I think if America was to join the war, I’d be trying to convince the government that I could do a clerical job for them. I’ve listened and read everything the newspapers and radio have released about that man, Hitler, and he should be staying in his own country, not invading every nation nearby. His goal is domination of the entire continent, I’d bet. And there’s trouble brewing in the Asian countries. It won’t be long, TJ, until America jumps in.”

TJ stopped walking, looking up at Tom with a very soft frown, “you’d try to enlist if America got involved?”

Stopping as well, Tom met TJ’s eyes and said, “bullies are bullies, TJ. I know they wouldn’t let me on the fighting lines, but I’d at least offer to do paper work.”

TJ’s frown deepened slightly and he met Tom’s eyes, “yeah . . . I suppose so,” TJ felt a fear beginning to creep on once more, that Tom would leave him just like his prince did. Would Bucky get drafted? Would the Army even take someone like Bucky? If both Tom and Bucky went to fight in the war . . . Steve and he would be the only two left, because TJ knew Steve wouldn’t be able to serve, despite wanting to.

“You don’t wish to ask for an administrative job if the country joins?” Tom asked, voice soft, starting to sound worried.

“Why would I?” TJ shrugged his shoulders, unable to meet Tom’s eyes as his own fell to the ground. The deep pain of abandonment swelled in TJ’s chest, worried that he’d lose Tom just like he lost his prince. Was this to be TJ’s life? To fall in love with someone only for that person to leave him?

Tom looked surprised momentarily and softly asked, “TJ, do you think I would care less for a man who doesn’t want to fight or at least help in the fight?” He brought his left hand up to place on TJ’s shoulder. “I suppose I assumed you’d wish to fight because you always defend others. I’m sorry for putting assumptions on you instead of asking your desires.”

“My desire is for everyone to stay home and not join some war that’s all the way in Europe,” TJ scrunched up his nose and then started moving again, still unable to meet Tom’s eyes, his own cheeks flushed.

Waiting a long moment, standing still as TJ walked, Tom finally fell back into step with his boyfriend and softly said, “that’s a fair point. Despite all the troubles, perhaps America should stay out of this particular war?”

“And, now I sound like the biggest jerk in New York,” TJ sighed and shook his head.

Blinking, Tom tilted his head. “How do you sound like the biggest jerk, TJ?”

Letting out another breath, TJ shook his head, “it doesn’t matter . . . look, I’m sorry I brought it up. Let’s not ruin our day, yeah?” TJ’s voice sounded troubled as he moved through the crowds on the sidewalk, heading in the direction of the bakery Tom and his family lived above.

Tom obediently dropped the subject, falling silent a step behind TJ, moving carefully through the subway crowd to catch the train that would finish their long journey from the stadium. A man glared at Tom, refusing to stand and give his seat over to the injured younger man, and Tom didn’t protest, merely holding onto the rail as the train filled around them.

Noticing the look from the man, TJ glared right back and snapped, “whatcha lookin’ at? Never seen a man use a cane before?”

The seated man turned his disapproving glare over TJ and rolled his eyes. “Damn cripples should be in an asylum and away from normal people.”

“Why don’t you say that to my face?” TJ practically growled, on edge from all the talk of enlisting and old fears bubbling up to the surface. He couldn’t deal with people’s discriminations that day. 

Stiffening, the man glared harder. “I just did, you freak.”

Tom sidled between TJ and the man, blocking each from seeing the other easily. “Two more stops, TJ.” He sounded calm, yet there was a hint of strain in his tones.

Looking around Tom, TJ jutted his chin in the direction of a heavily pregnant woman standing on the other side of the seated man, “could at least offer the lady a seat.” 

The man turned a disgusted look on the woman, taking in the scarf on her head and the layers of clothing. “A Jew? Shouldn’t even be on the train. Should be home tending her husband and children,” the man snorted.

Tom stiffened, his knuckles going white on the hand holding his cane. He stared directly ahead, taking deliberately slow breaths, attempting to avoid a fight. “One more stop,” he said under his breath.

TJ, on the other hand, seemed to want nothing more than a fight at that moment as he said, “why don’t you have some respect and allow her to sit, unless you’re too fat to stand for too long?”

Stiffening, the man snarled, “I should tell your father how rude you’re being to a man of responsibility. You’re just a snot-nosed street beggar, probably looking to steal from someone on this train. I should call the law on you!”

The train jolted to a halt, sending TJ stumbling into Tom a bit, who caught at his boyfriend to steady him. “Let’s go, Teej,” he whispered.

As Tom ushered him out of the train, TJ turned his head to look over his shoulder at the man, “and did your Momma raise a man not to give his seat up for a lady?”

Before TJ could say more, Tom forced him away from the emptying car. “TJ, no, let’s go. Please.”

“You wanna fight, right? Well, this is me, _fighting_ ,” TJ snapped, voice harsh, though he didn’t try to antagonize the man anymore. “Standin’ up for the little guys, right?”

With a sigh, Tom let his boyfriend go, stopping in his tracks. He met TJ’s angry eyes and asked, softly, “is that what you were doing, TJ? I misunderstood?”

“Of course I was, that fat bastard wouldn’t let that lady sit!” TJ huffed out, eyes narrowed into a glare. “Gets his rocks off at demeaning others . . .”

“Yes, I had noticed that about him,” Tom sighed and began limping out of the subway station, his tone and body language tired. “It seems to be a common problem, yes?”

“You aren’t sayin’ I was doing the same thing, are you?” TJ asked, hobbling after Tom, voice incredulous.

“No, TJ, I am not. I have ever been straight forward with you. If I felt you were discriminating, I would say so. What I felt,” Tom stopped and looked at his boyfriend, “was that you wanted to pick a fight and saw this disrespectful oaf as an easy excuse.”

“But, isn’t that what you wanted? You want to fight the bullies and protect the little guys? I do that and you treat me like I do something wrong?” TJ frowned fiercely.

“Have I?” Tom sounded surprised, yet tired. “I apologize if you feel that way about my reactions, TJ. I never meant to imply you did anything less than try to right a wrong you noticed. I suppose this talk of war has got me morose. The long walk, you see, has tired me. I look forward to sitting down a bit once we get home.” A hint of pain laced Tom’s brilliant green eyes.

Sighing, TJ nodded and didn’t say any more, instead just kept moving towards the bakery. He didn’t say anything else the entire way, not even as they stepped up to the stairs that led up to the upper levels of the bakery where Tom and his family lived.

At the foot of the steps, Tom stopped and looked upwards, taking a slow, deep breath then letting it out. Slowly, gripping the rail, he pulled himself carefully up the steps. “I believe Grandfather has a new recipe for rolls he will be trying tonight, TJ,” Tom said, voice soft and strained. He had to swing his left leg awkwardly with each step as he couldn’t quite bend the twisted knee properly.

“That’s good,” TJ murmured, following Tom up the steps.

Once at the proper level, Tom let them into the apartment. It sounded very quiet in the place. Tom took off his hat and jacket then sank onto a chair to begin removing his shoes,a process involving an oddly designed stick Tom’s father had created to help his son. Voice sounding relieved, Tom said, “it is good to be sitting again. That man on the subway had three people close by he could have been kind or respectful to and did not. A true bastard.”

“I didn’t need the seat, I’m fine standin’,” TJ said softly.

A light flush crept over Tom’s naturally pale skin and he nodded once, “two then.”

“I mean, I know I look worse ‘cause the brace and all . . .” TJ let his eyes fall down to the metal and leather brace with a sigh. “I . . . it’s all people ever see, really . . .”

Tom looked up, the pain lacing his eyes warrign with worry and relief. “I don’t think the man on the subway actually noticed, TJ. He was too busy arguing with you over letting the woman have a seat. You bring a very forceful personality with you that overshadows any illusion of handicap, in my opinion.”

“Forceful personality?” TJ frowned softly, his pale eyes looking over at his boyfriend, “what’s that even mean?”

Tom tilted his head and softly said, “it means that people listen to your words rather than look at your leg, TJ.” He watched the younger teen, resting his own painful leg.

“Oh . . . okay,” TJ sighed, shaking his head. “Need help gettin’ to your room?”

Offering his boyfriend a grateful smile, Tom said, “this time? Yes, certainly. I think I twisted my leg getting on the subway, it aches badly at the knee.” Tom lifted his arm towards TJ.

It wasn’t easy with his own crutches but TJ managed to help Tom into his room and onto his bed, settling him on the soft surface. TJ looked down at his boyfriend and asked, “anything else you need?”

Lifting his hand to cup the back of TJ’s neck, Tom whispered, “your love? It is all I ever need in the end, TJ.”

“You’re a sap,” TJ laughed softly, shoving down his own anger and fear; he wasn’t allowed to have those feelings, not when others needed him.

Tom offered a smile, “only for you, my heart. Come, sit on the bed with me while I check my leg? I really do think I twisted it oddly.”

TJ carefully sat down, out of the way so that Tom could easily check his leg.

Giving his boyfriend a grateful smile, Tom unfastened his pants and slid them off, with a little difficulty due to the swelling left knee. “You don’t like the idea of my volunteering to go to a foreign war, TJ? I can see that it would be dangerous and perhaps deadly. Would you allow me to suggest a compromise?”

“A compromise?” TJ asked, meeting Tom’s eyes.

Nodding, sitting only in his underwear and shirt, Tom met TJ’s eyes. “If America joins the war, I will not ask to join. However, if for some crazy reason the war actually comes to American soil, I ask to join. Is that a fair deal? I only ask to join once it is no longer a foreign war?”

“It’s not my life you’re juggling with,” TJ frowned fiercely, looking down at his lap, “if you want to go be a soldier, who am I to stop you?”

Sitting up straight, Tom tilted his head, “perhaps I didn’t make my hopes clear when we first discussed this subject, TJ. I never said I wanted to be a soldier or actually go into a fight face to face. I said I would ask for an administration job, here, in America, on the very back lines,a s it were.” Tom reached out to stroke his fingers lightly down TJ’s cheek. “I don’t like the little guys being beaten on, but I don’t feel I have the body strength to meet this particular bully head on. I’ll let the healthier men do that. But I can use my mind.”

“Do whatever you feel you need to, Tom,” TJ said, fingers picking at his trousers, “you feel like you need to go help in the office or whatever, then do it. I’ll be here, like I always am.”

A puzzled, sad look settled on Tom’s pretty features. “TJ, why does my offering to work for the war office upset you?”

Shrugging his shoulders, TJ said, “I don’t know, it just does. I’m sorry, I’m just some cripple that’ll be left behind while everyone else goes to fight a damn war that is thousands of miles away from here. But, don’t worry, when you decide to come back, I’ll be right here.”

Tom stiffened and said, “I never even hinted that I feel you are crippled, TJ, so please don’t lay that crime on my doorstep. And I thought I just explained that I would be applying for a _local_ job in an office working with papers? How is that _going away_?” Tom reached over to take TJ’s hand. “Is it _me_ or someone else you fear losing, my heart?”

“Everyone leaves. That’s what they do. You think if you get taken in by the Army or whatever that they’ll keep you here?” TJ shook his head, letting his eyes fall so he didn’t have to meet Tom’s eyes. “I get it. You wanna help. You wanna stop the bullies.”

Tom let go of TJ’s hand and forced himself from the bed, hissing softly at the pain in his obviously painful knee. “Why would the Army even bother taking me on, elt alone transferring a _cripple_ to any length involving the need to fund a transport? I suppose I’ve gotten too far above my place, thinking people would see me as a normal man. Obviously, I’m incapable of fighting a war.” Tom headed for the bathroom, painfully limping.

“Did I ever say you were incapable? _Once_? Did I ever tell you that you couldn’t go and do whatever it is you want to do?” TJ lifted his head finally, looking over at Tom as he limped into the bathroom. “Now who’s putting crimes on who’s doorstep?” 

Leaving the door open, Tom began urinating in the toilet, leaning one hand heavily into the wall for support, his body shaking with exhaustion. “You are correct, and I apologize. I shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions. I have ever prided myself on getting the real information. Forgive me, my heart? I do not wish to fight with you, especially over a war so far away which doesn’t involve us.” He flushed the toilet and stumbled to the sink to wash up, including his groin, not merely _shaking_.

TJ let out a breath and nodded, though Tom wouldn’t be able to see the gesture. Instead, TJ pushed back further onto the mattress, pressing up against the wall so Tom could get back on easily. TJ let his eyes close as he tried to relax, tried to forget everything that had happened in the last hour.

Tom limped back to the bed and painfully climbed in, sinking down next to TJ. He turned and stroked his boyfriend’s cheek, leaning in to kiss him gently. “I feel like an ass for even arguing. Forgive me, my heart?”

“It was my fault, I’m sorry,” TJ said, opening his eyes and giving Tom a small smile.

Tom smiled back and brushed his lips over TJ’s. “Very well, we both fought so we shall both forgive one another, yes?”

“Yeah, works for me,” TJ nodded, giving Tom another smile and kiss.

Slowly, Tom let his hand caress down TJ’s neck to his shoulder, dropped the hand to TJ’s waist, and began caressing up under his shirt. “I love you, TJ. You are my heart, my love.” He kissed again and again, soft kisses across lips, cheeks, chin, even TJ’s eyelids.

Letting out a soft giggle, TJ said, “I love you, too, Tom.” TJ let himself enjoy the kisses and caresses.

Softly, in TJ’s ear, Tom said, “when you are no longer a child, I will consummate our love with you, yes?”

“I’m almost seventeen, not exactly a kid anymore, Tom,” TJ said, arching a brow up at his boyfriend. 

“And I am legally an adult man loving a legal child, my heart.” Tom smiled though and kissed TJ’s lips. “I promised you I would not rush you into an adult relationship, did I not?”

“We’ve been goin’ steady for almost two years now, Tom, that ain’t even rushin’ for a snail,” TJ laughed.

Laughing out right, Tom kissed TJ on the lips. He let his hand slip downwards, covering TJ’s crotch for the first time. “Then, on your birthday. When you become seventeen. Yes?”

Mewling, hips arching up into Tom’s hand, TJ whined softly, “why not now? I’m not a kid and no one’s gonna know but you an’ me. Not like I’m gonna tell the law or nothin’.”

The eighteen year old buried his face in the sixteen year old’s neck and breathed, keeping his hand still on his lover’s crotch. “TJ, I don’t want you to be hurt . . . to be put in a situation too soon. I shouldn’t even be alone in this room with you since I turned eighteen.”

Rolling his eyes, TJ let out a huff, “this ain’t because of what I told you about Mr. Harver, is it?” TJ had finally told Tom just a few weeks before about the sexual abuse he’d suffered at the hands of Mr. Harver.

Lifting his head, meeting TJ’s eyes, Tom said, solemnly, “yes, it is. I don’t want you hurt or rushed, my heart. I want this to be good for you, for us.”

“You ain’t nothing like Mr. Harver,” TJ insisted with a soft frown, “it’s not like I’m ten years old, Tom! I’m nearly an adult . . .”

“God forbid I should ever make any kind of advances on a ten year old, TJ!” But Tom smiled softly, not taking TJ’s words as an insult or attack. “You _do_ hold down a full time job, pay bills, help support your family. Those are the duties of an adult.”

“I even graduated schooling, before you,” TJ pointed out with a smirk, “so, really, it’s like I’m _older_ than you.” TJ thrust his hips up gently.

“Oh, to be put in my place so soundly when I hope to continue my schooling through University,” Tom laughed. He caressed TJ’s crotch again. “TJ, I’ve never done more than kiss and cuddle, you know. And never with another aside from you.”

“Neither have I . . . well, aside from - -” 

Tom kissed TJ before he could even bring up the name of his abuser. Backing off, Tom whispered, “then we are both virgins, my heart. We shall learn and love together.” He began unfastening TJ’s trousers, watching his lover’s pale eyes. “Together we shall become lovers if you wish.”

TJ let out a soft moan, his hips canting off the bed, cock filling with interest. “Please . . . I want that?”

Exposing TJ’s underwear, Tom slid his hand down over the other teen’s crotch, feeling his girth and length. SMiling, a wicked gleam in his emerald eyes, Tom said, “so full, my heart.”

Letting out a gasp of pleasure, TJ had to fight to keep his hips still as he wanted to buck up into that touch once more. “Tom . . . Tom, please? I want this . . . I want you so badly . . . please?” TJ pushed up on his elbows so he could kiss his boyfriend passionately, forgetting about their argument, the war, the fear of losing his loved ones . . . right then, all that mattered was the two of them together.

Returning TJ’s kisses, Tom slid his hand into the other teen’s underwear, finally resting, flesh on flesh. He ran curious finger over TJ’s hard length, rubbing over his slit and spreading the precum he found there.

Groaning, TJ’s hand moved to the back of Tom’s neck, pulling them closer as he kissed his boyfriend’s lips again. “I love you, Tom, I love you so much . . .”

Tom whispered, “and I love you, my heart. You complete me.” The raven-haired teen stroked and caressed TJ’s weeping cock, enjoying the noises his lover made, the feel of TJ pulsing and bucking in his hand. “So sensitive, my heart,” he murmured.

Having never felt anything like the pleasure Tom brought him, TJ moaned and keened softly, his fingers tangling through Tom’s short curls at the base of his neck. “Make . . . make me feel so good . . . I - - I want . . . I want you so bad, Tom . . . we’re gonna get married . . . you an’ me . . .”

Nodding, Tom pulled down his own underwear, exposing his long, rigid cock. He moved to nip very lightly at TJ’s neck, just behind and below his lover’s ear. “Wanna touch me, TJ? Want to feel you.” He let his free hand roam down to experimentally stroke TJ’s anus.

Mewling as Tom’s fingers stroked over his passage, TJ nodded, placing open mouthed kisses all up and down his lover’s neck. He brought one hand down to Tom’s waist before slowly moving to caress over his hard cock, his fingers as light and soothing as they always were.

Tom groaned into TJ’s neck then moved to capture his lips, so enraptured by his beautiful love he didn’t hear the door to his room swing open.

“Thomas! My God!” Thomas’ mother’s voice rang out in abject horror.

Tom instantly pulled his summer blanket over himself and TJ, head shooting up, eyes widening in shock. “Mother?” he asked. “Mother . . .”

“You will clothe yourselves this instant!” the woman ordered, eyes narrowing.

“Ma’am . . . I - - I . . .” TJ’s head snapped in the direction of Tom’s mother, his heartbeat hammering in his ears. “It’s not . . .”

“Now, Thomas Barnes,” she growled but didn’t move form the doorway of the room, crossing her arms and glaring at the pair of teens.

Tom rolled carefully off his lover and began fastening TJ’s clothes back around him, covering his private areas, his delectable flesh. He met TJ’s eyes, his own wary and worried.

“Get your hands off of him and dress _yourself_ , Thomas Andersson!” his mother barked out, causing Tom to instantly obey and pull up his underwear then reach for his pants.

TJ finished buttoning up his trousers, trying to straighten up his shirt. He tried to think of what he could say to defuse the situation, all of Bucky’s warnings echoing over and over in his mind. Would they be sent to prison? To an asylum? Would they be killed? “Ma’am . . .” TJ tried again, reaching for his crutches, “that wasn’t . . . he twisted his knee getting on the subway . . .”

Stiffening, the woman growled, “you had each other’s . . . in your hands. That is disgusting! Immoral! It’s _illegal_ , Thomas Barnes! I don’t know what they taught you in that _public_ school, but this sort of behavior is unacceptable. I will be discussing this with your brother. He will certainly wish to discipline you appropriately so you are not tempted again by such disgusting behavior.” She turned her eyes on her own son and growled, her voice even more threatening, “you disgust me, Thomas. How dare you do this? In my home? With this poor child? I don’t know where you got such disgusting ideas, but I’ll not have you corrupting innocents! I’ll see you re-educated!”

TJ’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open and then he snapped his jaw shut, “ma’am . . . I - - I’m sorry.” TJ had heard some horror stories about _re-education_ houses and the practical torture people went through there. “I - - I’ll leave. I won’t see Tom again, jus’ - - jus’ don’t send ‘im to one of those houses . . . ma’am, this was me.” 

Tom softly interrupted, head hanging down. “Mother, I am sorry. I never thought through what we were playing at. I . . . it felt good to be touched. I never considered it was with another boy. But you’re right. I was wrong and am sorry. You will never have reason to catch me doing something criminal again, Mother.” Tom began to help TJ into his brace, his hands platonic, yet gentle. “Mother’s right, TJ. We need to find nice girls to court and marry and do that with. Yes?” His eyes held pain.

Swallowing thickly, TJ simply nodded, unable to get his voice to work right. As soon as Tom got the brace on, TJ used his crutches to get back to his feet. He headed towards the bedroom door where Tom’s mother still stood. He hoped she would let him go.

“Is your brother home, Thomas?” the woman asked in a calmer voice, though she still looked insulted and disgusted. “Despite knowing now that it was wrong behavior, I feel he should be warned so he can help keep you guided on the proper path. Maybe find you a wife in a year or two.”

“I’m not sure, Ma’am. He - - he was comin’ home from the game,” TJ answered honestly, unable to meet the woman’s eyes, “you’re welcome to come with me to see if he’s home . . .” The teen’s voice was soft and meek.

“Of course I will,” Mrs. Andersson turned and walked slowly down the steps, making sure TJ walked behind her. “Thomas Andersson, you open your Bible and you start praying the Lord takes away such wickedness!” With that, she led TJ out of the apartment building and over to his own. “Which apartment, please, Thomas,” she modulated her tone to sound almost reasonably calm while in public.

TJ told her which apartment was his and followed the woman out of the bakery, towards his own home. Half of him hoped Bucky wouldn’t be home. Once they stood in front of the door, TJ lifted his hand to knock, keeping his eyes focused on the floor.

The door opened and Bucky, dressed in his loosest shirt and trousers, stood in his slippers. Surprise crossed his face and he opened the door wider. “TJ? Mrs. Andersson? Is something wrong with Tom? Can we help?”

“This is best discussed inside and among family only,” the woman said, eyeing Steve further in the apartment. “Perhaps your friend would like a walk in the fresh air and sunshine?”

Steve frowned softly and looked at Bucky. “I’ll take Luna out,” he murmured, commanding the dog to follow him. He gave Bucky a confused, worried look before slipping past Mrs. Andersson and TJ, out of the apartment.

Once the door closed behind Steve and the husky, Mrs. Andersson turned to TJ and said, “would you care to explain or shall I, Thomas?” Her tones sounded disproving once more.

Keeping his head down, TJ murmured softly, “Tom and I were . . . touching each other, Buck . . .” 

Surprise and worry crossed Bucky’s features and he nodded, gesturing to TJ’s couch. “Have a seat while we talk about what happened, TJ. Mrs. Andersson, is Tom okay?”

TJ moved to the couch without another word, eyes blurring with tears that he fought desperately not to let fall. He sat on the couch, shoulders slumped and head hanging low.

“My Thomas is most likely the one to blame, as he is older than your Thomas. I always raised him by the Good Book, the law, and this is what happens? I blame that school he’s attending. It’s a _public_ school, not a good Christian school at all.” She ran her hands over one another over and over, red hair falling in wisps from her bun.

Nodding, Bucky said, “I’m sure it was a one time event and you won’t ever catch them at this again, Ma’am. TJ’s merely shy and confused. I’ll see he’s taught the right and wrong ways of touching and whom and when. Thank you.” He didn’t look at TJ as he reassured the woman.

With a sigh, she nodded and Mrs. Andersson turned for the door. “Penance in church before God or re-education if it doesn’t hold. Stop it now before he becomes a _Sodomite_ ,” she warned, twisting the last word into something horrifying.

“Yes, ma’am, thank you. I’m sure both boys repent already.” Bucky watched as his uninvited guest whirled and marched out without even saying goodbye. Slowly, he shut the door then walked over to sit beside TJ on the couch. Wrapping an arm around his brother, Bucky pulled him close and nuzzled his temple. “Damn, you okay, baby? She didn’t strike you?”

“I won’t . . . I won’t ever see ‘im again . . .” TJ murmured softly, head still hanging low, body trembling as he fought to keep himself under control. 

“Is that your decision, his, or _hers_ , baby?” Bucky asked gently.

“And risk Tom gettin’ sent to a re-education center?” TJ whispered miserably, “she’ll be watchin’ him like a hawk, now. And . . . he said we oughta find wives and have babies.” TJ’s voice cracked as he swallowed down a sob, his hands clenching into fists on his lap.

“In front of his mother or privately to you, Teej?” Bucky asked softly.

“What does it matter?” TJ snapped, a tear falling down his cheek which TJ quickly wiped away, “he said it and I’m not riskin’ him being sent away to one of those homes where they _cleanse_ the soul. Would you risk that?”

“We can move,” Bucky pointed out, “and give you a private bedroom. Tom can come over or even move in. Then she can’t touch him.” Bucky reached over to stroke TJ’s hair.

TJ shook his head, wiping his sleeve over his eyes, “won’t work. Like she’d let ‘im move in with us? She’d send the law over, Buck. Then what? You get caught? You and Steve both?”

“TJ, baby, listen carefully to me. Tom is eighteen, a full grown man. She can’t stop him from moving out. She also can’t stop him from _not_ telling her where he moves to, if he chooses. So, Tom’s living arrangements won’t get her setting the law on anyone as long as you both are very careful. We can move to another part of Brooklyn, closer to my job . . . there are administration style jobs available for Mr. Stark. You can apply for one so you’re still close to work.” Bucky stroked his brother’s cheeks, offering a smile of encouragement.

“It won’t work. Nothin’ works out for me. I’ll jus’ do what I’m supposed to do, go to work and come home. That’s it. I’m done, Buck,” TJ let out a deep sigh.

“Done?” Bucky shook his head, “you won’t even try to fight for Tom?”

“I don’t need you makin’ me feel worse than I already do, okay? If that’s what you want you can save it,” TJ wiped at his eyes again before reaching for his crutches.

“I never want you to feel bad, baby. I want to give you hope and other solutions. I see how you two are so good for each other. I want to help you be together,” Bucky countered softly.

“ _Hope_?” TJ growled out, pushing to his feet, “what in my life has ever given me a chance to _hope_ for anything?”

Stunned, Bucky looked like TJ had slapped him. He stiffened and slipped off the couch. “If you’re staying for dinner,” he finally said, “it’ll be a new recipe. Something from an Italian friend at work - - called spaghetti.” He hesitated then walked into the kitchen to begin preparing the food as he’s been instructed by his friend.

The door opened and closed, the sounds of shuffling and then Luna’s nails on the wooden floor. “Buck?” Steve called, worried, “where’s Teej going? What’d Mrs. Andersson want?”

“I don’t know because he hasn’t informed me,” Bucky called back in a sad voice. “He’s given up hope.”

“Given up hope?” Steve walked into the kitchen with a soft frown on his features, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Bucky, back to Steve, said, “apparently _nothing_ in his life has ever given him reason to think he should hope. Tom’s mother caught them loving. He’s given Tom up to protect us and Tom. Spaghetti for dinner, from that Italian friend at work, Mr. Russo?”

“Protect us? What’s him and Tom together have to do with us?” Steve tried to figure everything out, brows furrowed in confusion.

“He thinks Mrs. Andersson will call the law and we’ll get arrested and Tom send to a home for incorrigible boys. I can’t get through to him, Steve. He shut me down.” Bucky used the spices his friend had given him to spice the red tomato sauce, checking the recipe every few seconds. “TJ has decided to go to work and home and that’s it. He wouldn’t consider moving, either.” Bucky began stirring the sauce.

“He’ll come around, Bucky, he always does . . . he probably just needs some time to think things over, ya know?” Steve offered, watching Bucky with worried eyes.

Nodding, not replying, Bucky continued following the unfamiliar recipe. Finally, he softly said, “he’ll either come around or kill himself. Apparently, I’m not a good enough reason to have hope.” Bucky sounded sad, voice tight, as if he tried not to cry. “Definitely don’t want children,” he added softly.

“Bucky . . . this was _not_ your fault. You’ve warned the both of them to be careful. To make sure no one could see them . . .” Steve tried to reassure his lover.

Nodding, Bucky said, “I agree. It isn’t my fault. I tried everything I could for them and even tried giving TJ solutions now. It’s in TJ’s hands, not mine. His life, not mine. I’ve done everything I can. I . . .” Bucky wiped the back of his wrist over his eyes and said, very softly, “I give up.”

“Aw, Buck,” Steve cooed softly, hurrying the rest of the way to wrap his arms around his husband and hold him closely, dropping a kiss to the back of Bucky’s neck. 

Bucky turned in Steve’s arms. “I’ve tried every damn day, Stevie. And he just gets morose and fatalistic. I’ve shown him our kind of love is possible, and not even too hard to hide. I’ve encouraged him to learn to work around his leg. I’ve clothed him, fed him, housed him . . . _loved_ him. But he won’t listen to me. He won’t even give me any consideration. Every time he’s shot down, it’s like I have to pull down a damn cement wall to get him back up. I’m tired, Steve. I’m tired of carrying the load. I love him, but I don’t know how to help him anymore.” Bucky began to sob into Steve’s neck. “I’m not good for him anymore.”

“That’s not true, Buck,” Steve whispered in Bucky’s ear, “you’re the best thing for him. You’ve always loved him and cared for him. Encouraged him. He’s just upset . . . he’ll be okay. I give ‘im an hour before he walks back through that door and asks about what you told him. That’s what he does, Buck. TJ’s . . . he’s like a volcano? Dormant, yet powerful most the time but every now and again he explodes. It ain’t healthy and sadly those around him get hurt when he does explode but that’s how he’s hardwired, I guess.”

Bucky nodded and wiped at his eyes, pulling out of Steve’s embrace. “Don’t wanna burn the food,” he whispered. “Fine example I’d be if I burned the food from inattention, huh?” Bucky turned back to the cooking pots and stirred again. His entire body language said he was tired and hurt but trying to go on as normal.

Steve reached forward and turned off the stove so the sauce wouldn’t burn before turning Bucky back around to face him. “You’re allowed to cry, Bucky. You’re allowed to be upset and hurt and angry. You’re allowed those emotions. Just because they might be directed at TJ this time . . . don’t mean you’re not allowed to feel them.”

“But it doesn’t help. I just feel worse and worse, and I start getting sick. I feel like I’m ripping apart at the heart, Stevie.” Bucky bowed his head, forehead touching Steve’s temple. “I want so much for TJ. I want him happy and in love like us. I want to protect him and take him away from the pain and threats. And I want to be here for him, to help him and support him. I love you both so damn much it hurts sometimes, and I’m terrified things are going to break apart any moment now.”

“Would you feel better if we go out and try to find him?” Steve asked, stroking Bucky’s arms, wanting to do whatever he could to help his lover. “Just tell me what you need, Buck.”

“No,” Bucky admitted. “I feel like TJ wants to be away from me, so hunting him down would just make him run further and faster.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded, kissing Bucky’s lips, “what do you need right now?”

“I need that damned woman to leave my baby brother alone and let TJ and Tom love one another. I need the world to just fuckin’ butt out! And I need the war office to stop writing me to ask me to report for a physical,” Bucky dropped his voice.

Steve paled and his eyes snapped up to meet Bucky’s eyes, “they . . . they want ya to serve?”

Bucky sighed and walked to their bedroom, pulling out that day’s mail. He’d only opened the one letter, apparently. Holding it out to his husband, Bucky softly said, “they didn’t exactly say that. They said that they want all healthy men of a majority age to report for physicals for a military-geared census.”

Taking the letter, Steve read it over and sighed, “America’s preparing to enter the war . . .” Shaking his head, Steve ran a hand down his face and then looked to Bucky again, “what are you going to do? You . . . you can’t go, Buck . . .” Steve sounded worried.

“Of course I can’t go. There’s no way I’d be able to hide myself in the Army!” Bucky hugged himself and rocked on his heels. “I was thinking of destroying the letter, pretending I hadn’t gotten it. Hopefully so many people will respond, I’ll slip their mind until I can fake some horrible disease they won’t take me for?”

“I’ll help you, Buck, whatever way I can,” Steve nodded, reaching up to stroke Bucky’s face, “I love you, Buck. I love you so much.”

Bucky turned his head to kiss Steve’s fingers. He breathed out a long, deep sigh and whispered, “and I’m overdue for my cycle by a week. I don’t know what’s wrong but I can’t go to the doctor to find out, can I?”

Sighing, Steve hugged Bucky tightly, kissing his lips, “I love you. We’ll . . . we’ll figure everything out okay? You and me. Jus’ like we always do, right?”

Nodding, Bucky asked softly, “what if I’m pregnant, Stevie?”

“Then . . . then we’ll deal with that, too,” Steve let out a breath and shook his head, “we take everything one day at a time, Buck.”

“One day at a time,” Bucky agreed on a long breath. He kissed Steve then looked back at the stove. “I should really get that cooking. The sauce takes a while, he said.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded, stepping back to allow Bucky to go back to the kitchen, “mind if I keep ya company?”

Smiling at last, Bucky said, “I’d love it, Stevie.” He lead his lover back to the stove and handed the recipe to Steve so he could help cook the meal.


	16. In For One, In For All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Angst, Sexual Conversation, Intersex, War, Violence, Fighting, Bullying, Attempted Rape, Surgical Discussion**

May 27, 1941: 

For two days, Bucky didn’t bring up Tom, TJ’s outburst, or even the war department’s letter. He also didn’t avoid TJ or shut him down if he tried to talk. Bucky merely went to work, came home, and took care of the house like always, asking his brother and husband how their jobs proceeded. It was as if Bucky walked on eggshells suddenly.

For two days, Mrs. Andersson watched TJ very carefully every time he left the apartment. She didn’t greet him, didn’t smile or wave. She didn’t even frown at him, keeping her expression neutral, as if she didn’t know the boy next door. She certainly didn’t encourage TJ to come over to the bakery, even as a customer.

And for those same two days, Tom didn’t emerge from his own apartment. He didn’t cross in front of windows or peer out of the bakery. He didn’t even leave to go to school. Tom seemed to have disappeared completely.

On the third day, TJ received a visit from Jimmy Pickett. The boy with the almond-shaped eyes and slow speech smiled at his long time protector and friend. Without explanation, Jimmy held out a pudgy hand in which a paper crumpled. Once the sixteen year old took it, Jimmy turned and hurried back to his own apartment, humming off key to a tune no one else knew.

TJ frowned softly, watching as Jimmy hurried off before he looked down at the crumpled paper in his hand. He unfolded it and read the scrawl he had long since memorized. He read the note a few times; Tom asked him to meet up on the roof of the pharmacy. Looking over his shoulder, TJ called to his brother, “goin’ to the roof for a few minutes. Luna, come,” he ordered, hoping this wasn’t a trap or anything but bringing Luna just in case it was. He didn’t wait for Bucky’s reply before he and Luna left the apartment and headed up the rickety stairs to the roof.

Up on the roof of TJ’s apartment building, Tom Andersson sat, well away from the edge. He turned at the sound of both teen and dog coming out onto the graveled rooftop. Offering a smile to TJ, Tom turned and limped into a makeshift lean-to: a blanket strung up at an angle against the stairwell wall, forming a small tent of sorts. Looking over his shoulder, Tom leaned on his cane and nodded, still smiling in welcome.

“Come, Luna,” TJ said softly, hobbling his way over to the makeshift tent and ducking inside. He didn’t know what to say to Tom, so he didn’t say anything, just looked at his boyfriend - - or was it _ex_ -boyfriend? He didn’t approach Tom too closely.

Tom stepped over to TJ and leaned past him to shut the curtain over the door. He had a small oil lamp already burning close to the wall, furthest from the blanket covering. Cupping TJ’s face, Tom gently ran his lips over TJ’s before whispering, “my heart. You _are_ safe. Mother said you were sent away.”

Blinking, TJ’s brows furrowed in confusion and he shook his head, “no, Bucky wouldn’t send me away. She’s not . . . you’re still gonna be here, right?” TJ’s chest felt tight and he didn’t know what they’d do, how they would continue, but he did know that he didn’t want anything bad to happen to Tom.

“Actually, I told Mother that I would no longer shame her under her roof and moved out that same night. I have a small room above a fish shop now. It smells bad, but it is private and comes with a strong lock on both window and door.” Tom kissed TJ again. “WIll you come move in with me, my heart?”

Mouth dropping open slightly, TJ seemed a bit shell-shocked, “you - - you want me to move in with you?”

Nodding, smiling, Tom whispered, “yes. I wish to be married to you. Will you exchange vows, like your brother did with his love? Be my husband, TJ?”

“You . . . really? You wanna be my husband?” TJ asked, licking his plush lips and reaching out to stroke Tom’s inner wrist.

Tom answered, “I have been wanting it for some time, even when we were not . . . nearly lovers, my heart. But now? Now, I am certain I wish to consummate our love and become married. I do not want anything more to keep us apart.”

Grinning happily, TJ wrapped his arms around Tom’s neck, hugging him so tightly that it rocked the other man a bit. “ I wanna be your husband,” TJ whispered in Tom’s ear.

“Shall we say our vows, my heart?” Tom nuzzled his boyfriend’s neck, breathing in the scent of the other teen, a scent he’d missed terribly the last two days. “Or do you want to exchange vows in front of your family?”

Pulling back slightly, TJ grinned brightly, “would you be willing to? I want . . . I want to share the moment with Bucky and Steve? They support us.”

Nodding, Tom moved his lips back over TJ’s and whispered, “then let’s go to them. My mother won’t be looking at the roof, my love. I can get inside before she sees us.

TJ nodded, kissing Tom’s lips once more before pulling back, calling, “Luna, come.” He lead Tom and Luna, who looked happy once more, tail wagging, down the stairs and into the apartment he shared with Bucky and Steve. Once they were safely inside, the door shut, TJ called, “Bucky, Steve! Come out to the living room? Please?” TJ winked at Tom, hand clasped in his lover’s.

Bucky walked out of the kitchen, still seeming remote and quiet, though his eyes widened and his breath caught when he saw his brother lead Tom into the apartment. “Teej?” he asked, sounding confused yet hopeful. “Steve, come in here!”

Steve hurried out, stopping short next to Bucky when he saw the other couple. “Oh . . . hey, Tom? Did . . . did things work out?” He looked between the other three in the room.

“I moved to my own apartment and now come to ask TJ to marry me, Sir.” Tom smiled happily at the older couple.

“I’m gonna be moving in with him, Buck, but we wanted you two to witness us exchanging our vows?” TJ smiled at his brother, his eyes sparkling with joy and happiness.

Bucky strode over to TJ and cupped his brother’s face, lifting it to kiss his forehead. “Congratulations, baby. I’m honored to witness this special moment.”

“I love you, Bucky, there was no way I wouldn’t want you here,” TJ smiled at his older brother. “You’re the bestest brother in all the world,” he said the phrase he’d often told his brother when they were younger.

“And you are the bestest brother ever, as well, my baby TJ. I’m so proud of you and so happy for you.” Leaning his cheek against TJ’s temple, Bucky whispered, “there’s hope left in this world yet, baby.”

Tom smiled and said, “I cannot kneel before you, TJ, and I know you cannot kneel before me. We’ll exchange vows standing, yes?” He reached for TJ’s hands to clasp in his own, kissing first TJ’s right then his left.

TJ smiled up at Tom, pale eyes happy and full of love. He leaned up close to Tom and kissed his lips.

Steve wrapped an arm around Bucky, resting his chin on his husband’s shoulder. He kissed Bucky’s neck and whispered, “I told you things would work out, sweetheart.”

Nodding happily, this time fighting tears of joy, Bucky whispered, “they’re so beautiful, Steve. I never thought to rely on Tom to save TJ.” He turned and hugged his husband close, only Steve hearing his next words. “He’s so grown up and I can finally let someone else watch and guide him. I’m so proud. We did good, doll.”

Kissing his lover’s hands once more, Tom said, quite firmly and clearly, proud to marry his chosen mate, “Thomas James Barnes, I vow to love and cherish you. I vow to put you before all others. I will stand by you in all the good and bad to come, until death parts us. Before God and man, I vow to be your husband, Thomas Lucian Andersson Barnes.”

TJ gave Tom a watery smile, pale eyes blurred with joyous tears. After a shaky breath, TJ said, clearly, “Thomas Lucian Andersson, I, Thomas James Barnes, vow to love and cherish you for the rest of my days. I vow to stand by you in all the good and bad to come, until death parts us. Before God and man, I vow to be your husband.”

Leaning close, Tom kissed TJ, long and deep. “I love you, my husband,” he murmured. “I have found a job with the fish market. I cut and sell and price fish. They agreed to let me sit most of the time. A lovely couple from Romania. Their son left to join the navy so they needed the help.”

TJ smiled against Tom’s lips, pulling back a little bit so he could reply, “and the apartment isn’t too far from my work. Only a few stops away. Plus, we can come visit Bucky and Steve all the time, right?”

“Everyday, my heart. You can visit with them before coming home to me.” Tom nuzzled his husband’s neck.

Wrapping his arms around Tom’s neck, leaning close, TJ turned his head to look over at Bucky, “ya hear that, Buck? You won’t hafta go long without me after all. I know how you’d fall apart without me,” TJ teased, that spark of life and fun in his eyes that had been missing for some time returning once more. 

Bucky let go of Steve to give his brother a tight hug. “You know it. Need my baby brother to keep me grounded,” he chuckled.

“Now,” Steve called with a bright smile, “how about we go out for some celebratory dinner? That new diner opened up on Fourth street, Buck’s been wanting to try it.” Luna let out an excited yip, tail wagging happily as if he approved of the idea of going out to eat. Steve laughed and looked at the husky, “I think Luna might wanna come, too?”

Laughing, Tom stroked Luna’s soft ears. “They won’t serve dogs, but we can bring something home. Will you,” he looked at Bucky and Steve, “help us move TJ and Luna to our apartment?”

“Of course,” Steve agreed easily, stroking his fingers down Bucky’s spine, feeling for the first time in ages that everything really was going to be okay.

Bucky leaned into the touch and nodded, “of course we’ll help. Did you want to move in tomorrow or tonight or . . .?” He looked to his brother for TJ’s input.

“Well, maybe Tom and I can go home tonight . . .” TJ flushed a bit, licking his lips, “and then we can come back in the morning for my things?”

“And that will give us time to pack you up while you enjoy each other,” Bucky agreed. Running his hand over his his hair, he asked, “do you two know how to make love with another male?” He flushed, but Bucky wanted to smooth the way for his brother as best he could.

Looking at Bucky, TJ flushed a bit and nodded, “you use vaseline to slick up . . . your rectum and then . . . ya know . . .” TJ glanced up at Tom, trying to judge if Tom had actually known.

Tom blinked slowly at his lover and said, “use my penis to enter your rectum, or your penis in my rectum, yes?” Tom stroked a hand down TJ’s cheek.

“Yeah . . . that’d be the gist of it,” TJ nodded, flushing even brighter as he glanced over at Steve and asked, “So . . . are you gonna get some chow or not?”

Bucky cleared his throat and said, “do you need vaseline, Teej?”

“I can buy some on our way home?” TJ said.

“Right,” Bucky cleared his throat again then turned to Steve. “So, what about that diner, doll?”

***************

December 7, 1941:

Walking beside Bucky on the way to their destination, Steve shoved his hands into the pockets of his wool coat, hunching his thin shoulders as the tried to brace himself against the biting wind. Looking up at his husband, his own cheeks and nose red from the weather, Steve smiled, “thanks for doin’ this with me, Buck! I swear, you’re gonna love these classes.” Steve had finally convinced Bucky to attend an art class with him.

Smiling, Bucky chuckled softly as he kept his pace slightly slower to match Steve’s smaller stride. “Well, I like art. Will be be painting or sculpting or drawing?”

“Pretty sure today was learnin’ about watercolors, which I don’t use very often, so,” Steve shrugged with a bright grin, “should be interesting.” After a few more steps, the thin blond gently bumped Bucky’s shoulder as he said, “TJ seems to be real happy. Haven’t seen ‘im like this since he was a kid.”

“Yeah, his new apartment agrees with him, huh?” Bucky smiled down at Steve. “So, watercolors. That’s like paint with water in it, right? Looks like the rain washed it out a bit?”

“Pretty much,” Steve confirmed with a nod, “but, painting done in watercolor are some of the prettiest. Here’s the studio,” Steve gestured to the building they walked towards, “it’s on the second floor.” He opened the door and held it for his husband with a grin.

Bucky walked through the door and climbed the steps, waiting at the landing for his lover. “So, we spend a couple hours trying to get colored water to stay in place on the page and hope it makes sense?” he teased lightly.

Steve opened his mouth to say something as they walked into the studio where the classes were normally held but then frowned softly when no one else was there. “That’s weird, usually there are other people here by now . . .”

 

“Steve, didn’t you see the notice on the door?” A man with greying brunet hair called as he came from a small supply closet, looking upset and worried, “I’m sorry, lad, but classes are cancelled for today.” Mr. Nicholas had been the man Steve had taken lessons from for a few years now.

“Cancelled?” Steve blinked, looking at his teacher and then at Bucky.

Puzzled, Bucky pushed his hat back on his hair. “Sir? Why would the class be cancelled? It’s not a bad storm out there.”

“You two haven’t heard?” Mr. Nicholas asked, looking from Steve to Bucky, mouth dropped open in shock, “Japan attacked us! Attacked one of our military bases in Hawaii!”

Jaw dropping open, Bucky let out a nervous half-laugh and said, “you’re joking . . . right? Japan attacked _Hawaii_?”

“Not at all, my boy!” Mr. Nicholas shook his head, running anxious fingers through his hair, “we’ll be entering that damn war now! It’s only a matter of when President Roosevelt announces it.”

Steve’s eyes widened and he could hear his heartbeat hammering in his ears. “Japan . . . my God, Buck! Why would they attack ? We’ve hardly been involved?” Steve looked to be in a state of shock as he tried to puzzle through the latest, horrible news.

Shaking his head, Bucky reached out to grip Steve’s shoulder. “We - - Stevie . . we’re at war. America is in war.” His voice shook as badly as his hand. “We’ve gotta check on Teej . . .”

“Yeah, him and Tom are probably at home,” Steve nodded, giving Bucky a worried look before he turned his eyes on his art teacher, “have a good night, Mr. Nicholas . . .”

The older man nodded, shaking his head with a sigh, “be safe, boys. Spend time with your families.”

Steve nodded and gently grabbed Bucky’s elbow, ushering the other man out of the studio and down the steps. “C’mon,” Steve said softly, “Tom and Teej’s apartment isn’t too far from here.”

Nodding, Bucky leaned close to whisper, “didn’t TJ get upset with Tom because he said he’d join the war effort if America joined the war?” He walked quickly, forcing Steve into a sort of trot.

Steve didn’t seem to mind the increase of pace, hurrying after his longer legged husband, “well, things may have change after . . . ya know,” Steve looked up at Bucky and then straight ahead as they weaved through the people on the street. Men and women all looked stunned, shocked, or angry by the news of what had happened. America had been trying to stay out of the war and Japan had brought the war to America, forcing their hand!

Arriving at the fish shop, closed due to that day being Sunday, Bucky headed for the back steps to the second floor where Tom and TJ lived in a one bedroom apartment, the bathroom being shared with the shop owners. Knocking on the door, Bucky called, “Teej? Tom? It's Bucky and Steve.”

The sound of Luna’s nails clicking on the hardwood floor as well as TJ’s crutches came to Bucky and Steve before the door opened, revealing a confused looking TJ. “Hey, guys, thought ya had that painting lesson today?”

Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around TJ in a brief hug without explaining. He let go then walked in, dragging Steve with him. As he turned around to look over his little brother again, the older brunet whispered, “is Tom here, baby?” He sounded more shocked than anything.

“Yeah?” TJ frowned in worry, looking over Bucky and Steve as he shut the door to the small apartment, “Tom! Can you come here?” he called towards the smaller kitchenette. Looking back at his brother and Steve, TJ asked, “what happened? You two look like you saw a ghost or somethin’.”

 

Tom walked in from the kitchenette, leaning on his cane, looking sad and pale. He’d been listening to the radio while making lunch. Stopping beside his husband, Tom wrapped his free arm around TJ and nuzzled his neck. “Yes, my heart?” Sadness laced his voice.

“Why do _you_ look like you saw a ghost?” TJ frowned softly, looking between everyone in the room, “what am I missing?”

“I just heard on the radio,” Tom sighed and looked over at the older men. “Japan bombed Pearl Harbor in Hawaii this morning. America is in the war now.”

Blinking, TJ’s eyes widened in shock, he looked at Bucky and then back at Tom, “they . . . what? We . . . we . . . we are at war with Japan now?”

Tom hugged TJ to him one-armed and nodded. “Yes, my heart. We are at war.” He turned worried eyes on the two older men. “You are here for the same reason, yes?”

“Yeah,” Bucky hugged Steve to him. “We were worried about the two of you, when you heard.”

Steve let out a sigh, his eyes sad yet angry, “they were gettin’ ready for this though . . . with callin’ all able bodied men to report for physicals . . .” he shook his head and looked at Bucky, worrying that they’d draft Bucky . . . that Bucky’s secret would be found out. Would the Army still take Bucky once they knew?

“They’re gonna try to draft me again, doll,” Bucky buried his face in Steve’s temple.

“I know . . .” Steve said softly, worry in his tones. “We’ll . . . we’ll figure out something . . .” Steve stroked Bucky’s back.

TJ looked up at Tom, frowning very softly, “what . . . what about you, Tom? Are . . . are you gonna . . . enlist?”

“No,” Tom said, “not unless you want me to, my heart. I’m a husband now.” Tom nuzzled his lover’s neck. “We need both our paychecks to cover our medical bills, for one.”

Letting out a shuddering breath, TJ nodded, “what’s gonna happen now?”

Tom offered a small smile and said, “well, in a few months there will be a whole bunch of jobs open?”

Bucky blinked then buried his face back in Steve’s temple, asking, “I shouldn’t laugh, right? That shouldn’t be funny, right?”

Steve stroked Bucky’s back and kissed his temple, “I love you, Buck. So much. We’ll get through this. All of us, okay? All of us gotta stick together.”

Nodding, the brunet lifted his head and said, “yeah, all of us. Stick together. We know now what’ll happen. They’ll be looking for any able-bodied man to join up. All we have to do is prove we’re not able-bodied. I mean, three of us are obvious. I just have to find a reason _not_ to have to strip for them.”

“I can bust your arm up,” TJ offered with a half smile, an attempt at a joke, “I can even do your left so we’re opposite?”

Bucky blinked slowly and said, quite seriously, “we’ll keep that idea in reserve, just in case, I think.”

Tom looked from one man to another to another. Softly, he asked, “why is Bucky trying to find a way to avoid stripping for them? Because they’ll find him able-bodied?”

Flinching, TJ looked at Tom and then at Bucky, his pale eyes apologetic, “I’m sorry, Buck . . . I forgot he didn’t know . . .”

“I have extra body parts, Tom,” Bucky said finally, sighing. “I have breasts and other female body parts, along with my male body parts. Extras.”

It was Tom’s turn to blink in surprise. Nodding he said, “then I can understand you not wanting to undress for a group of strangers.”

“We’re worried that Buck might get hurt . . . not many people know,” TJ frowned in worry, nuzzling close to his husband.

“We have to figure it out, because I doubt we’ll have very much time, especially for you, Buck,” Steve dropped a kiss to the side of Bucky’s neck.

A thoughtful look crossed Tom’s features as he studied Bucky and Steve. Softly, he said, “we’ll think of something, Bucky. You won’t have to go through that humiliation.”

**************

June 14, 1943:

They had all managed to escape the draft for six months. They watched as their neighbors, their co-workers, everyone they knew, were shipped off to fight the Nazis, help America’s allies, and take revenge for what Japan had done to them. However, unlike other men their age, they weren’t lining up at the local recruiting office, they weren’t keen to fight overseas where they could be separated and die. Each day, for the last six months, the four men received their mail in fear for when that dreaded letter might come, especially Bucky. Tom, TJ, and Steve could easily slip the draft but Bucky would have to go through the embarrassment and horror of a physical exam and none of them wanted that. So, they waited . . . and waited . . . and waited.

It had been Bucky’s suggestion to go to the _World Exposition of Tomorrow_. The four men were all so tense that they needed a night where they could relax and not think of the war overseas, instead being able to think about the glimmer of hope for tomorrow. They had all agreed without needing too much convincing.

Walking alongside his husband, Steve gently bumped Bucky’s shoulder, “I know you wanna see Stark’s flyin’ car, Buck. Had you heard anything about it at work?” Steve’s eyes shifted to look around the busy expo happening around them, taking in all the men in military uniform before he snapped his attention back to Bucky.

“I didn’t get to see the car or the plans, but everyone’s been talking about how Mr. Stark’s gonna try to _fly_ the car here tonight. I definitely want to see _that_.” Bucky grinned at Steve then at TJ right behind them, walking with Tom. Turning back to face forward, Bucky asked, “are there any other things we want to see before the car?”

“I think we should head over to the area where the car is gonna be, that way we’ll be able to get a good spot,” Steve smiled at his husband, his fingers brushing over Bucky’s quickly; to anyone passing by, it would appear as an accidental contact.

“I think you’re right. Let’s go see when it’s scheduled to fly. Don’t want to miss it. Teej? Tom?” Bucky grinned over at his brother again.

“Sounds good to me, Buck,” TJ nodded in agreement to the plans he’d overheard. He weaved through the busy crowds, using his crutches with ease despite other passersby who didn’t pay attention, some accidentally bumping into him as they looked around the expo with awed expressions on their faces.

Tom chuckled and followed TJ, leaning on his cane as he limped along. As people bumped into them, Tom didn’t get angry, merely moved as often as he could out of the way to prevent injury. He watched as Steve and Bucky lead them through the crowds as best they could. Once at the correct pavilion, Tom asked, “which display stage? The one with the red curtains or the one with the purple and gold curtains?”

“I believe it’s the red curtain, right, Buck?” Steve asked, looking up at his husband. Bucky would be the one to know for certain.

Chuckling, Bucky nodded. “He chose red because he didn’t want to be ostentatious.” He stepped over to the platform and stopped center stage, smiling in eager anticipation. “Steve, think I can get some ideas to present?”

“Sure, Buck, you’re one of the smartest guys I know, I bet you already have several good ideas in your head,” Steve praised, looking up at Bucky with a smile.

With a snicker Bucky leaned close and whispered, “yeah, but none I’ll show off at _work_ , Stevie.” He gave his husband a leer.

Steve flushed but wasn’t able to reply due to the loud cheers and claps that roared from the crowd around them as the curtains started to draw back and Howard Stark, himself, presented a bright red car. They all watched with rapt attention as Howard’s assistants removed the wheels off the vehicle and the car actually started to lift off the ground. The crowd broke into gasps of awe and shock. However, it was short-lived as the car started to spark and sputter before falling the several inches back down to the stage.

Bucky smiled wide as Howard Stark smoothly excused the failure. Leaning closer to Steve, Bucky said, “magnetic levitators, I think. Not enough opposition.” He patted Steve’s shoulder and said, “gotta go pee. Be back real quick, Stevie.” He seemed unaware that Howard looked over at his employee in curiosity. Instead, Bucky turned and headed for the main building, ignoring the recruitment posters while he looked for a bathroom.

In the bathroom, Bucky headed into a stall and closed the door, peeing there instead of where anyone could see him with his pants down. When done, he headed for the sinks to wash his hands, ignoring the other men. One of them smirked and turned to his companion, leaning closer to his buddy.

“That’s Barnes, the one I told you about,” he said.

Bucky frowned but soaped his hands, pretending not to have noticed.

“Yeah?” The other man, a large blond haired man asked, his brown eyes falling down Bucky’s body, a leer on his face as he took a step closer to Bucky. “Wonder if it’s true? Where’d ya even hear those tales, Lyle?”

“Harver. I used to live at the same building before the family ran and hid. But he said he fucked Barnes and she’s a dame, not a guy. Has a really tight cunt.” Lyle answered.

Not even rinsing his hands, Bucky turned and headed out of the bathroom, hoping to get away from the men.

The other man, the blond, grabbed Bucky’s arm before he could make it to the door, pushing the smaller man back, further into the restroom. “Where ya goin’, Barnes? Think we gotta check and make sure you’re in the right bathroom?” The man’s other hand started grabbing at Bucky’s shirt, yanking it from where the fabric had been tucked into Bucky’s trousers.

Pushing the blond hard, Bucky fell into a classic boxing defense pose. HIs shirt, torn a bit, displayed bandaging underneath around Bucky’s chest. “Fuck off!”

“Oh! The _bitch_ is fiesty, Lyle!” The man grinned, laughing cruelly. “Oh, we’re gonna fuck, alright, baby. C’mon, why you hidin’ all those curves of yours?” The blond lurched forward, quickly, obviously having his own training, slamming Bucky back against the wall. The blond’s large hand groped Bucky’s breast over the bandages, yanking at them over the shirt, tearing the fabric more.

Bucky pushed and growled, “my curves? I got a dick, same as you. Balls, same as you, I assume. _Those_ are my curves. Get off!” He kicked at the blond’s kneecap and pushed past Lyle.

Lyle reached for Bucky calling, “I got her, Harold! I get her next!” He grinned widely as Bucky struggled, managing to yank free and head for the door again.

Harold grabbed at the back of Bucky’s shirt, tugging harshly and ripping the fabric completely. Bucky could not hide the banaging anymore, if he went outside, anyone in the crowded expo area would be able to see bindings on Bucky’s chest. “C’mere, bitch, we’ll show you whatcha missin’ by pretending to be a boy!”

Bucky punched Lyle and kicked at Harold again, heading towards the door despite his lack of shirt. He figured he could run fast enough past the crowd to look like he was bandaged for an injury. Pushing the door open, Bucky ran right into Steve instead.

The sudden collision knocked Steve off his feet, the tiny blond instinctively grabbing onto whoever ran into him, bringing the other person down with him as well. “Woah!” Steve said and then his eyes widened in shock and horror, “Buck? What the hell happened?”

Having seen his brother run out of the bathroom, TJ didn’t even hesitate before charging as fast as he could into the bathroom, growling, “what the fuck did you do to my brother?” He didn’t care the other two men were a lot bigger than him.

Tom followed his husband into the bathroom, stepping carefully over Steve and Bucky, who clutched at the blond’s shirt, trembling and panting. Tom lifted the wolf-headed cane and said, very calmly, “you will regret this night.”

“What’re a pair of fucking useless cripples gonna do?” Harold sneered, nudging Lyle with his elbow, “which one you want, Lyle? I’ll letcha have first pick.”

“Sure, Harold. I’ll take the pretty one with the tits on the ground,” Lyle laughed.

Whipping the cane out at Harold, Tom struck the large blond across the back of the knees. He then hit the man across the shoulders, hard. “You shall apologize, Sir, for accosting my friend.”

“No, you dumbass, kick the _cripple’s_ ass,” Harold shook his head, looking over Tom and TJ with narrowed eyes, approaching TJ.

TJ picked up his crutch and brought it out, fast and smoothly, crashing it against Harold’s face. The large man let out a howl of pain as blood started gushing from his nose. “Don’t you touch my brother!” TJ shouted, bringing the crutch back down on Harold’s knee, bringing the other man down.

Lyle turned to attack Tom. He grabbed for the cane and yelped as Tom ripped it through his hands, the head of the cane tearing the flesh. “He fuckin’ bit me!”

Bucky, feeling a bit more reassured since he was no longer the lone target of two men, launched himself at Harold’s legs. “These freaks know Harver and believe his lies!” he called to Steve. “Tried to rape me!”

Steve hurried to his feet, blind with rage, and launched onto Lyle’s back, wrapping thin arms around the other man’s neck. “Tried to rape my friend, you asshole! I’ll teach you a lesson in manners!”

Lyle yelped, blood dripping from one hand as he tried to buck Steve off his back. “Freakin’ fairies! Get ‘em off me, Harold! He’s tryin’ to rape me!”

Tom used the cane across the back of Lyle’s neck and shoulders, catching the assailant across the neck and cheek, opening a slash on the man’s face. “You will desist and your friend will cease!”

Harold grabbed at TJ’s crutch, his hands slippery from the blood that gushed from his nose. With a feral growl, the large, injured man ripped the crutch from TJ, making TJ stumble forward enough so Harold could grab him. Wrapping a beefy arm around TJ’s neck, wrenching himself back, making TJ gasp and stumble, dropping his other crutch and stumble back with him, Harold leveled a murderous glare on Bucky, “call your little fairy friends off or I’ll crush his neck, you bitch!”

Bucky stood and lifted his hands, glaring at Harold. “Everyone, let them go.” His voice came as a growl as he obeyed, not seeing the small greying man who’d just entered the bathroom and stopped still.

Steve let go of Lyle’s neck, pushing off just hard enough so the larger man stumbled. He watched both attackers through narrowed eyes. Tom bent, left knee stiff, to scoop up TJ’s crutch, keeping a wary eye on Harold and Lyle as he helped his husband.

Bucky narrowed his eyes and said, “wanna see what you’re after?”

When both attackers straightened, grinning an anticipation, Bucky unfastened his pants, like he had done years before, and lowered them just enough to display his penis and testicles. “This what you want or you still trying to feel up my bandages over my chest injury?”

Lyle gagged and elbowed Harold. “He’s a guy!”

“You’re not even fucking worth all this,” Harold snarled, shoving TJ towards Bucky before grabbing Lyle’s arm and pulling his friend out of the bathroom, cursing under his breath. The small older man stepped smoothly out of the way, allowing the attackers to run off.

Bucky caught TJ, his pants dropping the rest of the way, exposing his hidden parts. “Teej?”

“I’m fine,” TJ assured his brother, pulling back as Tom handed him one of his crutches to lean on. “Did they hurt you?”

Hanging his head, Bucky pulled up his pants and fastened them, “I’m okay, Teej.” Glancing up, he froze, seeing the stranger. “Uh . . . hello? We’re just leaving?”

Steve glanced over, watching the older man warily as TJ started to unbutton his own, non-torn shirt. TJ passed the garment over to his brother, wearing just an undershirt.

Bucky took the shirt and started slipping into it.

“You are injured, young man?” the elder man asked in mild curiosity, stepping further into the room, allowing the door to shut completely. “I am a doctor.”

Flushing, Bucky glanced at the man then at his companions.

Frowning as Bucky refused to talk, TJ finally spoke up, “he’s okay, thank you, doctor. We’ll be leaving now. Sorry about holdin’ up the restroom . . .” 

Nodding, the man stooped and picked up Bucky’s torn shirt, an envelope falling to the floor. He bent and picked that up, too. Glancing at the envelope he offered it, and the shirt, to Bucky. “You’re draft letter and shirt, young man?”

Uncomfortable, Bucky took them, glancing quickly at Steve. He hadn’t mentioned getting another letter.

“How long have you had that draft letter, Buck?” Steve asked, blue eyes watching his husband with worry.

“Got it two days ago,” Bucky sighed. “Was trying to figure out how to . . .” he suddenly glanced at the stranger.

“You need to have your physical, yes? I am performing the military physicals at the recruitment station here. I could be your physician.” The man held out his hand and calmly said, “Doctor Abraham Erskine.”

Bucky looked over at Steve then TJ and back at Erskine. “You . . . you saw why I can’t be recruited, Doctor, right?”

“I saw part of the fight and the end results. All four of you should come and volunteer for your physicals. You will not have to dread a letter coming in the mail once this is over.” Erskine surveyed each of the men before him.

“You ain’t tryin’ to trick us, right?” TJ asked, frowning softly as he looked over the doctor.

“Excuse me, trick you?” Erskine tilted his head, confusion in his voice, his accent sounding Eastern European.

“With all due respect, Doctor, you saw what my brother is. You aren’t gonna do his physical and then report him, are you? Send him away? I won’t let that happen,” TJ sounded determined and protective.

“I saw a determine young man, intent on protecting himself from two men who tried to assault him. I saw nothing to _report_. Once his physical is over, where would I send him except where he requests?” Erskine reached into his pocket and pulled out his civilian identification card, revealing he worked with a branch of the military called SSI.

TJ looked over the identification before glancing at his brother, “up to you, Buck.”

“You want to do my physical so you can 4F my record without revealing my . . . condition to the rest of the military?” Bucky asked, to confirm.

Erskine offered a soft smile and said, “actually, no. I wish to do your physical so I can clear you for duty. All four of you.”

Blinking in shock, Steve looked over his group and then down at himself, before lifting his eyes to meet Erskine’s, “Doctor? I am not sure what part of the military you work for but we . . . we definitely aren’t going to be cleared for duty? Except for perhaps a desk job?”

“No, not in this condition, true,” Erskine nodded, looking over the four. “But this is not a discussion meant for a men’s latrine. Perhaps you will join me in my proper office so I can perform the physicals, explain my reasoning, and then the four of you may decide.”

After several moments, both Steve and TJ slowly, warily agreed, both looking to Bucky and Tom for their decisions. Tom nodded, leaning on his damaged cane. Bucky sighed and nodded his own agreement; he knew he had to report anyway. Hopefully this man was not lying about keeping his secret for him.

“Excellent. Please come, gentlemen. I will explain fully.” Erskine turned and strode from the room slowly enough that Tom, using his broken cane, could keep up without having to tear up his hand.

Bucky leaned over to Steve and said, “what could he possibly think would get us to agree to go to war, even if he could do that? Once we hit the basics training, we’d be found out and put in the stockade.”

“I don’t know, Bucky, I suppose we’ll just have to hear him out,” Steve replied, looking up at Bucky, once more looking over his husband to make sure he was really okay.

“Stevie . . . they were gonna . . .” Bucky whispered, hugging himself as they walked.

“I know, Buck,” Steve said, wishing he could comfort Bucky, but there was nothing he could do at that moment.

Once inside the recruitment station, Erskine led the four men directly to a medical exam room, ignoring any military or medical staff along the way. Once in the room, he gestured for the four young men to sit down. Closing the door as Tom, the last one, settled awkwardly, Erskine turned and said, “I have a medical procedure which is in an experimental phase. It can, if done properly, heal the patient. The military keeps offering me men who are physically superior specimens, however . . .” He stopped speaking when TJ interrupted.

“Heal the patient?” TJ frowned, looking at the others and then at Erskine once more, “heal the patient from what exactly?”

“The patient’s physical form will reflect his inner form. Thus, bad, weak men will grow weaker or more horrid on the outside. But good, brave, loyal men will heal to reflect their inner selves. It will heal a crippled leg, a bad heart, or a set of malfunctioning lungs.” Erskine turned and pulled out a file concerning the procedure and the results.

Steve’s brows rose in surprise and he glanced at Bucky and then over to Erskine, “could it . . . perhaps help Bucky with . . . becoming what gender he is? Fully, I mean?” Steve kept his voice very low, so only those in the room could hear him.

Erskine met Bucky’s eyes, not Steve’s. “It will not close a vagina nor remove breasts. However, I can perform a double mastectomy to remove the breasts. The serum will heal the surgical area. I can also perform a surgery to close up the vagina if you prefer.”

“Close up the vagina? How?” Steve asked, not realizing how much he sounded like a worried spouse rather than a concerned friend.

Erskine glanced over at Steve, noting just who did the talking about such a procedure as he offered. “I can surgically remove the labia, the outer lips, and then sew the opening closed, using part of the labia to fill in the needed skin.”

Softly, Bucky asked, “what if . . . what if I only want the breasts removed but the rest left alone? That’s not so hard to hide if no one wants to do a full physical.”

Smiling gently, Erskine said, “I can do so, however, if you change your mind and ask for the surgery after the serum, I cannot guarantee a full healing without scars.”

Bucky drew in a breath and lifted his eyes. He looked at Steve. “Stevie? What do you think I should do? I just want your opinion to help make my choice?”

“Bucky, my opinion is that I want you happy. If just getting the breasts removed will make you happy then that’s what you should do,” Steve offered a reassuring smile.

“You two are a couple, yes?” Erskine asked, still softly. “And you find it hard to let go parts of your body which feel good when you are alone, but embarrass you and worry you in public?” He said the last part to Bucky.

Blinking slowly, Bucky finally nodded and whispered, “yeah, but I’ve always hated hiding who I am, strapping down, nearly being caught. Some guys sees swelling and think they have rights to touch and grope.”

Nodding, Erskine said, “then it sounds as if you wish to remove the breasts so you no longer have to hide them. Your nipples should remain sensitive, if that is important to you.” The doctor didn’t seem bothered by being presented by a pair of homosexual men.

TJ looked to Tom, feeling like they might be intruding on a personal doctor visit for Bucky. TJ wondered if they should wait outside while Erskine spoke with Steve and Bucky about such personal topics, though TJ wouldn’t lie to himself and say he wasn’t happy that they might have finally found a way to help Bucky.

Turning to TJ, Erskine said, “and the serum will require no surgery of your leg to repair the damage. Nor your’s,” he glanced at Tom.

Blinking, TJ looked back at Erskine, “uh . . . how? I mean . . . the bone’s all messed up? No surgery has worked . . .”

“My serum uses hormones, vitamins, chemicals, and vita rays. I do not need to cut you open to fix your conditions. The only thing I would have to use a scalpel on would be removing body parts or closing them up if they were naturally open.”

“Okay, let's say we all agree to what you’re tellin’ us, Doctor, but this type of . . . offer doesn't come freely, does it?” Steve asked, reaching over to take Bucky’s hand since it seemed the older man didn’t mind them being a couple.

“No, if I am able to repair you and make you healthy, you will be required to serve the United States military. It is through them I have funding to do the procedure. They wish to create a unit of what they term super soldiers, physically better than most. If I can prove my serum heals, they can use it on other soldiers who are injured or men who wish to serve but are not currently physically able. This would be the test the military requires to prove my procedure.” A small smile crossed Erskine’s face at the gesture but he lost it just as quickly to explain his point.

“I’d like to do it, please,” Bucky said softly, squeezing Steve’s hand.

“If he’s doing it, so will I,” Steve agreed with a nod, squeezing in return. A part of him felt proud that he might actually be able to serve in the military, to be able to help his country.

Tom turned to TJ and took his hands in his own. “TJ? What do you wish?”

Meeting Tom’s eyes, TJ worried at his bottom lip and slowly nodded, “this . . . this offer won’t come again . . . we - - we could be healed, Tom.”

“And we could fight the bullies, too, TJ. Do we do this, knowing the price is enlistment?” Tom smiled at his husband.

“I think we should?” TJ said softly.

Leaning close, Tom touched his temple to TJ’s and said, softly, “so do I, my heart.”

Erskine nodded, “of course, until the country begins to accept same sex couples, you four will still have to hide _that_ part of your lives.”

Nodding, Steve let out a breath and asked, “when will the procedure be, Doctor?” He kept his hand in Bucky’s, enjoying the feeling of being able to hold Bucky’s hand.

“I will need time to perform the double mastectomy. The serum should be shortly after the surgery, yes?” Erskine smiled grimly. “The produce hurts in the bones as they are fixed, but you will not be cut open. Of course, I can do two patients at a time, so you can go in shifts, if you prefer?”

“Which would be better, in your opinion, Doctor?” TJ asked.

“The Army thinks I can do one test. They will not approve a second test without proof the first works. The two leg injuries are minor for the serum to repair. You two go first to prove it works, then I will be granted the right to work on the more serious condition of the mastectomy surgical area. I do not yet know the blond’s condition, so it would be better to wait for his procedure as well. Each couple stays together?” The doctor looked from one man to another, back and forth.

Snorting softly, TJ cracked a crooked grin and said, “oh, Stevie has every ailment in the book, Doc.”

“Then he should certainly wait for the second round, once I can prove this works.” Erskine offered Steve a smile.

Steve let out a breath and nodded, looking to Bucky, “does that work, Buck? Tom and Teej go first?”

Bucky nodded and smiled, his eyes looking hopeful. “Yeah, we go second. We wait to see the results before my surgery?”

“Agreed,” Erskine said and picked up several clipboards with pens. “If you will fill out these recruitment forms. Bucky, yes? For your condition, put extra appendages. I will not have you list them. Most people having to look at this will assume it to be extra fingers, toes, or even a conjoined, parasitic twin.”

Eyes lighting up completely, Bucky took his form and began filling it out as ordered. Tom smiled, handing TJ his form then taking one for himself and filling it out.


	17. A Solution and the Payment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Medical Procedures, Pain, Assassination, War, Violence, Torture, Rape, Prisoner of War**

June 16, 1943:

Walking alongside Tom as they entered a large laboratory hidden in the heart of Brooklyn, TJ looked around, mouth dropped open slightly in shock. Who would’ve known that a top secret military project would be housed in the center of Brooklyn? TJ didn’t wear his brace that day because Erskine had said it wouldn’t be necessary after the serum and would have needed to be taken off before the procedure anyways, though TJ did still use his crutches so he could walk. Luna walked sedately beside TJ, his brown eyes taking in the new space warily. TJ wasn’t sure how Erskine got the military to agree but Luna had been allowed inside and TJ had been promised that if the serum worked and he shipped off to the war, Luna would be able to come with him. He glanced over his shoulder at Bucky, giving his older brother a small, nervous looking smile. If Erskine’s serum worked . . . this would be the beginning of a whole new chapter for all of them.

Bucky looked equally nervous and met his brother’s eyes. He knew that if the serum didn’t work, it would finally break TJ’s heart. Wanting to protect TJ form that, Bucky wished he’d be the one going first, but his surgery wasn’t until the next day, and the doctor wanted him to get the treatment _after_ the mastectomy. Bucky reached out to touch TJ’s shoulder, offering an encouraging smile. “This is amazing! An antiques shop with a twist.”

Steve nodded slowly, walking beside Bucky, looking just as awed as TJ, “how many times have we walked past this place?”

“Doctor Erskine,” a woman’s voice called, her tone clipped with a very neat English accent. TJ looked over and blinked at the sight of a very beautiful woman with brunette curls pulled back from her face, her lips painted with bright red lipstick, “these are the recruits?” Her brown eyes looked over all four men, not seeming disproving of Erskine’s choices. “Colonel Phillips did not sound happy when I spoke with him this morning.”

Tom bowed at the shoulders to the British woman. “Ma’am. Thomas Andersson.” He didn’t use his new last name, TJ’s, because it wasn’t official or legal. Laying his free hand on Luna’s head, he added, “perhaps the Colonel doesn’t approve of a dog.”

The doctor smiled at Tom then turned to the woman. “Yes, Agent Carter. He doesn’t think I chose wisely for my serum procedure. However, he presented physically perfect specimens, and the Army wishes to test the healing capabilities of the serum. I believe the Colonel does not wish to train imperfect specimens.” Looking over the four volunteers, Erskine gestured to each. “Thomas Barnes is here with a severely damaged clubfoot and leg. Thomas Andersson is here with a knee which was healed improperly after an accident which broke and twisted it. They are our pair going today. Steven Rogers is the owner of the medical file in your hand, with multiple internal conditions including lungs and heart problems. James Barnes will undergo a surgery before he and Steven receive their treatments.” Erskine lifted Bucky’s file in his own hand, having not handed the full report over to anyone else.

Bucky flushed but kept quiet, meeting the woman’s eyes with his own pale blue.

Peggy Carter glanced to Bucky and then took the file, letting her eyes fall as she skimmed over everything. Nodding once, Peggy closed the file and handed it back to Erskine, “very good, Doctor. I do think it’s about time we begin. Howard is quite ready,” she looked over to where scientists and lab workers hurried around the lab, focusing on two metal beds.

“Howard?” Bucky asked before turning and going pale. “No one said my _boss_ would be part of this!”

With a frown, Dr. Erskine asked, “you do not trust our supervisor to be professional and successful?”

Clearing his throat, Bucky said, “no, but he doesn’t know my condition. I didn’t think I’d be letting people I know . . . see.”

Dr. Erskine turned to Peggy Carter and said, “James Barnes is our most delicate case. His condition can lead to much misunderstanding. You can assure him that Mr. Stark will not tell everyone of his personal information, yes?”

“Everyone in this room is sworn to secrecy, Mr. Barnes, I can promise you no one will know, not even everyone in this room is going to know,” Peggy answered, meeting Bucky’s eyes.

“Will I have to be completely nude in front of all of them?” he asked, suddenly hugging himself, wishing his bindings were tighter.

“Of course not,” Peggy replied, “did Doctor Erskine not explain the procedure to you? Did you read the packet given to you?”

“He said I’d have the surgery then the next day, if I am not too sick to be moved, I’ll be lain on one of those tables and strapped on. I’ll get some shots and put in a tube and bathed in vita rays?” Bucky blinked, fighting not to grab Steve’s hand. “He said it will hurt, but I’m not afraid of pain, ma’am, just how the staff will react if they see my disorder.”

“Well, you won’t be nude so that fear is unnecessary for this case,” Peggy answered honestly. Looking back at Erskine, she said, “I really do think we should begin doctor. Have the two patients doing the procedure today go up with you, and I’ll take the other two, and the dog, up to the viewing box.”

Nodding, Dr. Erskine turned to Tom and TJ. “Gentlemen? I will require you both to remove all metal, please, and most of your clothing. You may leave underpants and trousers, loosened, on, however.” He led them into the large room with machines none of the four could quite understand.

TJ glanced at Bucky and then at Tom before turning to follow Dr. Erskine. Bucky reached out as TJ walked away. He pulled his little brother into a hug and whispered, “remember, baby, I love you, no matter what.”

TJ nodded hugging his brother in return before pulling away, stroking Luna’s ear as he went. “Love you, too, Buck,” TJ said softly, starting to unbutton his shirt though the crutches made it a bit difficult since he still stood.

Tom reached over to unbutton TJ’s shirt for him and loosened his trousers, removing his husband’s belt. “I’ll help you, TJ. Then you can settle on the bed and get your shoes off, yes?” He smiled, as if helping one’s best friend undress was perfectly normal. Tom kept his hands platonic.

“Thanks,” TJ nodded, giving Tom a shaky smile. Once Tom had finished, TJ moved over to the bed, handing off his crutches to one of the nurses, before he got on the metal surface and removed his shoes.

Next to Bucky, Luna whined unhappily and shifted from foot to foot.

“Gentlemen, if you’d follow me?” Peggy called to Steve and Bucky.

Nodding, Bucky put his hand on Luna’s head and ordered, “heel, Luna.” He led the dog after the Agent, checking that Steve remained very close at hand. He worried over his brother just as much as the dog did.

Once inside the viewing room, surrounded by men in military uniforms, Steve glanced up at Bucky and murmured softly, “he’s gonna be okay, Buck . . .”

“He better be. I mean, he’s tried so many times to get his leg healed and it’s always gotten worse.” Bucky looked down upon the medical area, watching the staff settle both teens on the beds. “I read the paperwork and listened to the doctor’s explanations, Stevie, but . . . it’s _TJ_. I’d do it first if they’d let me.” Bucky stroked Luna’s ears over and over.

Steve nodded, looking down at the area below them, hands clasped behind his back, fingers interlocked together so he didn’t reach out for Bucky’s hand. “I have a good feeling, Buck, this’ll be it.”

“And then we’ll go serve in the war, Steve. I _want_ to help, but I’m terrified. War means dying.” Bucky looked towards his husband.

“Not all the time. We’ll keep each other safe, Buck,” Steve reassured his lover.

Down in the medical bay, Doctor Erskine made sure the two men had been strapped in securely. He nodded and another staff member began to raise the beds into standing positions. Stepping next to TJ, Dr. Erskine asked, “how do you feel, Thomas?”

“Nervous, but that’s normal, right?” TJ asked, licking his lips and meeting the doctor’s eyes, his twisted and bowed leg very obvious to everyone in the room. “What if I ain’t a good guy, Doc?” TJ remembered what Erskine had said, that the serum enhanced what was on the inside and made the body match. TJ feared that this would be another botched procedure . . . that he’d end up even worse than he was.

“If you weren’t nervous or afraid?” Erskine asked. He offered a gentle smile. “I’d stop the procedure and kick you out of my program for insanity, Thomas. Anyone in his right mind would be nervous or frightened. I would, and I am fully confident it will work.” He patted TJ’s shoulder then turned to Tom. “And you, Thomas?”

Nodding to the doctor, Tom said, softly, “I am petrified it _will_ work, doctor. I have lived injured so long, I do not know if I will adjust to wellness very well.”

Howard Stark snickered, grinning. “Hey, TJ. How’s Bucky? I hear he’s coming in a couple days to do this, too?”

Looking over at his brother’s boss, TJ nodded, “he is. Gonna make sure it works first, though. I sure hope you’re as smart as you think you are, Stark,” TJ teased the other man.

“I just press the buttons, TJ. Doc over there’s the real genius.” Howard winked and glanced over at the other Thomas. “And you’re Tom? The first of the family I hear about? It’s great to see such willingness to try this. We hope to make miracles. Imagine, if it does everything Doc says, we can cure polio!”

Glancing over, Tom nodded and said, somberly, “yes, Sir, Mr. Stark. That's the hope.”

Chuckling, Howard looked to TJ. “Serious, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, but he’s a fun fella once you soften him up a bit,” TJ said, glancing over at Tom and giving his husband a reassuring smile.

Howard nodded and laughed. “Well, maybe he’ll soften up when he gets to know me. So, my advice? Think of the worst possible pain you’ve ever even thought you felt. Up it ten times, and know you will survive. The staff gets jumpy and keeps wanting to shut things down as soon as someone screams. You need to use words or it gets shut down, okay? Tell us you want to keep going or not. We’ll listen.”

“Alright . . . let’s get this show on the road? The suspense alone will kill me,” TJ gave Howard a nervous looking smile.

Tom met Howard’s eyes and asked, “Sir, having seen and been a part of this, would _you_ go through it?”

Grinning, Howard said, “nope. Not because of the pain. I’m a _bad_ boy. I’m afraid of what would happen.”

Tom seemed strangely reassured. “Then I am ready. I am a good man. I do not fear what my soul will show.”

With a smile, Erskine patted TJ’s shoulder then turned towards his own machine. “I have seen the four of you in a bad situation. I have no fear what your souls will show, either.” He turned and spoke a few words for a cameraman he wouldn’t allow too close to the patients. “You will not be filming every patient, gentlemen, so take the shots you can now.”

Camera flashes went off then Erskine called a halt and began the procedure. The bed sides came forward and around, enclosing Tom and TJ inside metal tubes. Machines whirred, medicine ran, and lights flickered.

Without even thinking, Steve’s fingers unclasped and he reached out to squeeze Bucky’s fingers.

Bucky entwined fingers, terrified for his brother and brother-in-love. “Steve . . .” he whispered, not really expecting an answer.

And Steve didn’t give him one. Instead, the blond watched as the light got brighter and brighter, having to shield his eyes after a few moments. Then the screaming started.

Bucky stiffened, his hand painfully squeezing Steve’s. “My God,” he whispered, his voice fading off completely before too long. He trembled and let his other hand move to enfold Luna’s collar tightly. “Stay, Luna. Heel.” Bucky feared the dog would try to _save_ TJ, hurting himself.

Luna whimpered pitifully, looking up at Bucky with wide eyes; the husky shifting uncomfortably, clearly in distress at the sounds of his master’s screams.

“Don’t . . . stop . . .” TJ cried out, pain very obvious in his tones.

“I . . . can . . . go . . . on . . .” Tom echoed his lover, ending in a scream.

Erskine nodded and refused to let his staff stop the procedure. He met Howard’s eyes, the scientist nodding in answer. Finally, the machines turned off and the sounds wound down, the lights steadying. With a loud clang and hiss, Erskine released first TJ’s tube then Tom’s, standing close to assist them. Howard hurried over, as well, to assist.

TJ, skin shining with sweat, brunet curls damp, stumbled out of the tube as his restraints were released. TJ looked a little bigger, muscles more defined under the, what used to be loose, shirt, but what shocked him and everyone around him was when he stumbled out, TJ put his full weight on his right leg.

“Oh my God . . .” Steve breathed out, eyes wide with shock, watching as Tom and TJ were let out, “it worked.”

Bucky let go of both husband and dog, turning to run for the steps leading into the medical bay. He ran to TJ, ignoring Tom, who emerged looking fairly the same as when he went in except his left leg, no longer twisted and disfigured. Bucky reached for TJ’s shoulders and studied his brother’s face then his seemingly normal, undamaged leg, under the trousers. “Teej? Baby?”

Panting, pale eyes lifting to look at Bucky, TJ breathed out, “it . . . it worked . . .” Luna barked and jumped up at TJ, putting his paws on TJ’s left leg. TJ absently put his hand on Luna’s head, stroking the dog’s fur.

Bucky pulled TJ into a hug. “No pain, baby? No more stiffness or twisting?” He wanted to strip the pants off TJ to verify but held back.

Tom lifted shining emerald eyes and said, “I feel no pain, either. Breathless, a lingering ache around my body, but nothing like my normal leg pain.”

Turning a smile on TJ’s husband, Bucky grinned widely. “That’s great!”

“It worked! It really worked, Buck,” TJ smiled, looking down at his straight leg, being able to put his weight on it for the first time in his life. He felt a little off, his body needed to get used to standing and walking normal but . . . it had worked!

“I’ll be damned,” Steve breathed out from behind Bucky, having followed his husband down, “it . . . it really worked.”

Turning his smile and wonder on the doctor, Bucky asked, “and the long term effects? You said only one treatment, right? He won’t have to endure that pain to keep it straight?”

Dr. Erskine touched TJ’s shoulder then Tom’s. “The one treatment is the only they will ever need to fix what was wrong. They can still get sick and injured, and will need medical treatment in the future for those, but this is a clean slate for them. As if they are reborn.”

Glancing at Steve, Bucky laughed, still hugging TJ. “Guess we finally found the right doctor.”

Colonel Chester Phillips, an older man dressed in a full formal military uniform walked up to Erskine and offered his hand, “you did it, Doctor.”

Nodding, Erskine sounded confident yet not smug, “yes, Sir, Colonel. And tomorrow I do the surgery on the other Barnes brother. The day after, the older Barnes and Mr. Rogers will go through this procedure, if they still agree?” He looked at Bucky and Steve for the answer.

Bucky straightened and said, firmly, “definitely, Doctor. I am going through with it.”

Steve nodded his agreement, “I will as well. Thank you, Doctor, for giving us all this opportunity.”

Abraham Erskine smiled wider, his expression softening. "Thank you for allowing us to prove we can help people with severe illnesses and injuries. We hope to adjust it to involve less and less pain in time. This is in its early stages."

“Okay, why am I so hungry?” TJ asked, glancing to Tom and then at the doctor.

Laughing, Tom agreed, “yes, I am hungry, as well. Doctor, this is the metabolism change you mentioned?”

Nodding, Erskine said, “ yes, it is estimated that your bodies will work on a four to one basis. You will heal four times faster and be able to use four times as much energy and strength and speed. However, you will require extra food and, despite not feeling tired as often, will certainly need sleep.”

Bucky hugged TJ again. “Then let’s get these two dressed and go eat.”

**************

June 20, 1942:

It had been four days since Tom and TJ had been healed completely, earning a place in medical and military history. The teens had apparently had no detrimental effects, aside from TJ’s lack of balance and Tom’s leaning on the cane out of habit. The Colonel had been told to wait until all four underwent the procedure, to give them a chance to see the larger benefits and the long term.

It had been three days since Bucky underwent a double mastectomy. Fortunately, his breasts hadn’t been so large that he risked bleeding out from the removal. He remained groggy for the next twelve hours, and Erskine had to argue with Phillips that Bucky would be ready for the procedure as scheduled.

It had been two days since Steve and Bucky underwent the serum and vita rays, Bucky fairly groggy the entire time until the first pain coursed through him, wiping out all hint of the lingering morphine and anesthesia. His screams had been heart rending, but he refused, like Steve beside him, to stop. When they came out of the tubes, there had been very little time to wonder at the changes especially presented in Steve, formerly five foot four and ninety-eight pounds. The blond now towered at six foot two and two hundred forty pounds of solid muscle. But the changes were barely noted before an assassin shot Dr. Erskine and bombed the viewing area, running off into the city, Steve, Bucky, Tom, and TJ running after him.

It had been one day since the four men, touted as heros and medical miracles, had been given a single day to recover from everything that had happened, including Dr. Erskine’s murder, bleeding out in Steve's arms. They’d had blood tests and physicals, Bucky’s done by a very surprised secondary physician who hadn’t originally studied the man’s medical file.

Finally, on the fifth day in the secret laboratory, despite the bomb damage, the four newly made super soldiers sat around the small breakfast table, waiting for Colonel Philips to come give them their orders for basic training. Tom pet Luna’s ears as he quietly ate his scrambled eggs. Bucky sat between his husband and brother, continually studying Steve with wide, appreciative eyes.

The door opened and Colonel Philips came into the meeting room, frowning, though it seemed that the older man’s resting face could be a permanent frown. “Gentlemen,” Philips nodded to the foursome before slipping into a chair and passing each man a manila envelope.

Tom took his envelope and offered the commanding officer a small smile of welcome. “Sir,” he greeted the man before opening his envelope.

Bucky opened his, finally looking away from his very beautiful husband. He looked over the orders and said, “So, we’re finally reporting to basics, Sir?”

“You are,” Philips nodded, looking over to Bucky, “you will be reporting to basics and then in eight weeks, your units will be assigned your posts.”

Glancing over Steve’s paper, Bucky frowned. “Sir? We aren’t at the same base?”

“No, you’re not,” Philips confirmed with a nod, “we can’t have all four of you at the same base. Makes it too easy for the enemy to find out where you are.”

Bucky said, “Georgia? I’m being trained in Georgia, Sir?” He looked up, shock in his eyes.

“South Carolina,” Tom sighed then looked at TJ. “And you, TJ?”

Scrunching up his nose, TJ looked down at his papers and muttered, “Wisconsin.”

“New Jersey,” Steve frowned and shook his head.

Colonel Philips said, “you’re in the Army now, men. Can’t argue with orders. Tomorrow each of you move out to basics. Once you graduate, you’ll be sent on to the war. Work hard, make your families proud. The war can’t last forever.” He stood, without giving them any more chance to say anything, and walked out, leaving the foursome shocked and angry.

“Sir,” TJ tried to call out to the Colonel.

Stopping, Philips frowned severely and said, “Private?”

“I - - I can still take Luna, right? Doctor Erskine promised I would be able to . . .” TJ looked worried.

“According to the medical reports we have, your brother has more need of the _protection_. You willing to let the dog go with him?” Philips countered.

Blinking, TJ looked at Bucky and then down at Luna.

Bucky whispered, “I still have . . . some parts, Teej.” He sounded upset, reaching down to stroke the husky’s ears.

“Yeah . . . okay,” TJ frowned, heart breaking at the thought of being separated from everyone including Luna.

“Good man. Rogers, you’ll be under my command at Lehigh.” Philips nodded and turned away, heading out the door. “Remember, pack up and report to your transports tomorrow, men. We’ll get this war under control.” Turning, he added, “none of you will be sent to the Pacific, at least.” WIth that, he disappeared.

Bucky stood and disposed of the rest of his breakfast, putting the tray and dishes in the pile on the cart. “Not hungry. Let’s go pack and . . . visit privately?”

As everyone else stood, Steve looked worried and instinctively reached for Bucky, fear coursing through him at the thought of being separated from his husband. TJ remained sitting, appearing almost shell-shocked at the news he wouldn’t be with his brother, his husband, Steve, or even Luna. For the first time in his life he wouldn’t have any of them.

Tom stood and reached to touch TJ’s shoulder. “Come, TJ. Let’s go back to our room.” The four of them shared, but it would provide some privacy from the outside world at least.

Luna whimpered and butted his nose against TJ’s thigh, looking up at Bucky, and then Steve cursed and hissed to his husband, “Bucky! Look at his face!”

Shocked, Bucky instantly moved to help TJ stand and walk, making sure others didn’t see the blank, inner-turned expression.

“Come on,” Steve grabbed Tom’s elbow, also calling out to Luna, “Luna, come!” The dog bolted into action, hurrying along with the group.

With a frown, worried, Tom followed, having never seen TJ in such a daze. He walked quickly with the others until they got into their private four man room. Tom shut the door. “What’s happened?” He knelt down in front of TJ, for once not wondering at the working knee. Taking TJ’s hands, he studied the absent look. “My heart? TJ?”

Steve looked over at Bucky, frown on his features as he wondered why the hell TJ would have an episode _now_? It had been years since the last time when TJ’s supposed prince told him he wasn’t good for TJ. The blond, now two inches taller than his husband, stroked Bucky’s forearm.

“I thought the prince wasn’t doing this any more,” BUcky whispered, stroking TJ’s curls. “Tom, did he ever mention this?”

“Losing touch with his surroundings?” Tom frowned and sighed. “I don’t recall such a discussion. It cannot be medical. It would have been cured by the serum.” He looked over his shoulder at the others.

“Since he was a boy, a . . . _prince_ has summoned TJ’s consciousness elsewhere to . . . be with one another? But, TJ’s body remains completely helpless to his surroundings. “It’s how he got that nasty cut on his palm the day after you two met? That was the last time this happened. The prince . . . told TJ he wouldn’t be visiting anymore because he wasn’t good for him?” Steve explained, shaking his head in confusion and worry.

Trying to figure out this new aspect, Tom slowly asked, “someone somewhere else can talk to TJ through their minds?”

“We aren’t sure what exactly it is,” Steve answered honestly, glancing to Bucky, worried about the boy he had a hand in raising. Would this happen while TJ was in the battlefield? Leaving TJ completely defenseless?

“And who protects him when he is mentally busy?” Tom asked, a catch on his breath as fear for his husband filled him. “He needs Luna more than you do, Bucky!”

“If we tell anyone about this, they’d lock him up, enhanced or not, Tom!” Steve hissed, his eyes darting between Tom and TJ’s blank features.

“Then we give Luna’s transfer orders to TJ so Luna can protect him if he goes blank. He can’t be left defenseless.” Tom reached for Bucky’s orders.

A sudden trickle of blood from TJ’s nose drew a gasp and curse from Steve. Bucky stroked TJ’s cheek and whispered, “baby? TJ, come home to us. Bucky’s here. Tom’s here. Steve and Luna are here. Come home, baby.”

With a gasp, TJ shook his head, his eyes blinking rapidly as one of his hands went to his head. Disoriented, TJ tried to stand up, not realizing he was back yet, and stumbled a bit.

Tom immediately caught TJ’s hips, still kneeling in front of him. “TJ, my heart?”

“What?” TJ moaned softly, heel of his palm still pressed to his temple, blood running from his nose.

“TJ,” Tom stood slowly, “you’re bleeding, my heart.”

Lifting his other hand to his nose, TJ touched the blood on his face and pulled his fingers back, blinking in surprise at the red that coated his fingertips. “Buck?” TJ looked to his older with confusion and fear in his pale eyes.

Bucky wrapped his brother in his arms, hugging him close. “It’s okay, you’re back, TJ. Was your prince angry? You’ve got a bloody nose.”

Shaking his head, TJ wrapped his arms around Bucky, whispering, “no . . . I was. I pushed him and shouted at him . . .”

“And what did he do? Say, baby?” Bucky hugged him, stroking TJ’s back.

“He . . . he said he sensed I . . . I needed him and he wanted to make sure I was okay? I got mad . . .” TJ flushed, realizing Tom could hear everything. He ducked his face, still bloody, against Bucky’s neck. “I - - I think I brought myself back? Maybe that why I have a bloody nose?”

Nodding, Bucky continued to hold his brother. “It’s okay. Now you know you have a little control.”

Standing up, Tom reached for TJ’s hand and lifted it to his lips. He kissed TJ’s fingers. “Would you like Bucky’s orders for Luna? Take him with you in case you are summoned again?”

“But, then we’d have to explain why I need him more than Bucky. I’d be sent away for sure,” TJ sighed, pulling out of Bucky’s arms and wiping at his nose, the bleeding having stopped a few moments before.

“Well, both of you look so much alike and the names are so similar, that it could be put down to a confusion in the papers? Then, once you’re both in Wisconsin, no one will bother to ship Luna back. They’ll let you keep him.” Tom stroked his husband’s hand.

“No,” TJ shook his head, “I’ll be fine. I doubt . . . I doubt he’ll want to see me again after what I said to him. Bucky,” he looked to his brother, “I want you to take Luna. Philips is right, you need him more than I do.”

Bucky hugged his brother again and whispered, “I love you, TJ baby. And we _will_ be reunited again.”

“I love you, Buck,” TJ said softly, dropping a kiss to Bucky’s cheek. “We will all see each other again, I’m sure of it.”

Slowly, Bucky let his brother go, allowing Tom to envelope the slender brunet. Instead, Bucky turned to Steve and, for the first time since they’d been healed, pulled Steve close and kissed him. “Stevie . . .”

“It’ll jus’ be for a little while, Buck,” Steve hugged his husband close to him, dropping another kiss to his lips, “you come back safe to me, you hear? That’s an order.”

Nodding, Bucky said, “when you least expect it, doll. You’ll turn around and there I’ll be. Me _and_ Luna.”

**************

October 01, 1943:

Checking over the wires in his radio box, Gabe Jones of the US Army 107th Infantry shook his head. “All I’m saying is no one can figure out how she does it. If she’s faking, even the experts can’t prove it. She can _read minds_.”

Rolling his eyes, TJ, now a Corporal in the army after going through basics and a few months fighting in Italy, said, “all those sideshow freaks are fake, Jones, sorry to tell ya.” TJ missed his brother, who he knew, from the one letter they had been able to exchange, fought in France. He missed Steve, who had been forced to do some military science and medicine tour to show off Erskine’s work. And he missed Tom, who was in Spain, terribly, but he didn’t try to focus on it. They would win this damn war and then TJ would be able to go home. He’d met a few good men in his unit, though he mostly stuck close to Gabe Jones, the communications specialist, and Dum Dum Dugan, a rifleman.

TJ would be lying to himself, however, if he said he wasn’t happy about being able to run fast, lift heavy objects, all the benefits the serum provided him. He felt so free and it was only fair he pay back Erskine by taking out the group that had the kind Doctor murdered. He was proud to be able to serve in the military; he just wished his brother, husband, and Steve could be there with him.

With a snort, Gabe shook his head. “Wasn’t a sideshow freak, TJ. She was sitting in a living room with several specialists and scientists. And she read their minds. Ever hear of people talking without words? Fascinating!”

Stiffening a bit, TJ glanced over at Dum Dum and then back at Gabe, “and how’d ya even see this mind reader?” Like TJ had expected, his _prince_ hadn’t summoned him again since the last time with Bucky, Steve, and Tom. TJ didn’t like to think about the mysterious prince that used to talk to him through his mind. He had more concerning matters to worry about; like keeping himself and the men around him alive.

“I didn’t. But I heard about her. Talk all about her on the radio over at the last town we stopped in,” Gabe assured them. “And she says it’s just a matter of _learning_ how to, that everyone’s actually born hardwired for telepathy, as she calls it. Sure would make radio work easier.”

Snorting softly, TJ scanned the areas around them, the field they occupied seeming _too_ quiet and calm for being this far into Nazi territory, setting TJ on edge. “Probably jus’ some hoax, Jones, wouldn’t think much on it. Ain’t no such thing as mind readers.”

“Aw, man, can’t a guy _dream_? Imagine talking to someone miles away without anyone overhearing? No radio or telegraph or anything. It’d be the greatest!” At some static on his radio device, Gabe looked down and fiddled with a knob.

“Or a huge distraction,” TJ murmured, frowning as he listened to the static on the radio.

Grunting, Gabe said, “they say she goes into a kind of trance when she does it. Hard to wake . . .” The radio cleared and someone spoke rapid code over the line in a thick Germanic accent. Blinking widening dark eyes, Gabe put a finger to his lips and pulled out a notebook, writing down as much as he could of the code.

TJ looked to Dum Dum and then around the field again, opening his mouth to whisper something to Dugan, but before he could get a word out, an explosion brought up the dirt right next to the trench they holed up in. TJ cursed, grabbing his gun, “what the hell are they sayin’, Gabe?” TJ could hear as their men shot into action, gunfire ripping into the night air.

Shaking his head, Gabe said, “attack coordinates for some kind of tank, I think,” he ducked the spray of more dirt and shrapnel. “Damn! Lost it!” The radio fell back into static and Gabe hefted the device before sidling further down the trench at a quick pace, looking to avoid being shot.

TJ looked over the trench, trying to see what the hell was shooting at them, and his eyes widened at the sight of a large tank. The tank shot again, a bright blue beam exploding from the machine and hitting a group of their men, vaporizing them instantly. “Oh my God!” TJ breathed out, stunned and horrified as he watched the men of his unit scatter and shout as they were gunned down. Distracted, TJ stood up just a bit more to try and see where the tank might be vulnerable so he could take it out, but a sudden sharp stinging in his neck brought him down, collapsing into the trench right next to Gabe.

Gabe reached over a shaking hand to check TJ’s neck for a pulse, trying to balance the heavy radio in his other arm. “Dum!” he hissed in warning as a man with an odd, thick barreled rifle came up over the lip of the trench and shot off Dum Dum’s bowler hat.

Dum Dum raised his hands in the air, dropping his rifle with a curse, “we’re caught, boys!” Dum called out to any remaining men. With TJ taken out by what appeared to be a dart that had been filled with some sort of drug, Dum Dum knew they were surrounded.

Gabe let the radio fall to the dirt and raised his hand, the other still holding onto TJ’s shoulder. “Damn,” he swore. “It’s as if they knew who to hit with that shit!”

**************

October 01, 1943:

With a groan, TJ started to regain consciousness, his muscles feeling weak and shaky. The first thing he could feel were his hands bound above his head, his feet barely touching the floor . . . no shoes on his feet either. The next thing was that he felt cold, despite his temperature supposedly running higher due to the serum; it took him a moment longer to feel the cool rush of air on his torso . . . he was shirtless, though luckily his military issued trousers were still on. Blinking sluggishly, TJ cracked open his eyes, his head pounding. What the hell had he been shot with? Something strong enough to drug him despite his ridiculously fast metabolism.

Looking around as best he could, he could see he was in a windowless cell, about eight by eight feet with a single steel door directly in front of him. What had happened to the men in his unit? To Gabe and Dum Dum? TJ let out another soft groan.

From behind the prisoner of war came a voice, a gentle tone with a Germanic accent, though not as harsh as an actual German-speaker, “you have awaken. Good. This will be easier with you awake. First, I am Doctor Arnim Zola, not that you will have need to remember me. What is your name, please?” The man didn’t move from behind where TJ hung so did not come into view.

Once TJ got his mouth to work right, his mind moving slow due to whatever they shot him up with, he mumbled, his words slurring a bit, “Corporal . . . Thomas . . . Barnes . . .   
three . . . two . . . five . . . five . . . seven . . . zero . . . eight . . . five . . . six . . . eight . . . nine . . . nine . . .” It had been the mantra that he’d learned at basics if he ever became a prisoner of war. TJ attempted to pull at the bindings on his wrist but either the medication flowing through him weakened the enhanced man or the bindings were made up of some very strong material.

An audible sigh came from the man called Doctor Zola. “You are not going to be difficult are you, Corporal Barnes? I would hate to cause you pain.” A man of small stature walked into view around TJ. He had large wire-rimmed glasses over intelligent eyes and his head, hairline receding, looked a slight bit larger than one might expect. Dressed in a nondescript suit with long shin length white lab coat, Doctor Zola studied TJ’s face and figure. He said, “you are an American _super soldier_ , yes?”

“Corporal Thomas . . . Barnes . . .” TJ repeated the mantra again, blinking his eyes as the initial fog in his mind started to clear a bit. He tested the bindings against but was met with the same result. He couldn’t get enough leverage with his feet barely touching the floor to do much of anything.

The doctor sighed again and shook his head. His tone remained soft and calm, almost as if he dealt with a frightened child instead of a soldier of seventeen. “Corporal, if you do not answer my simple questions, I will be forced to assume you are _not_ who I wish to meet. In that case, I will allow the guards to do as they wish while I question a different captive.”

Taking a breath through his nose and letting it out through his mouth, TJ met Zola’s eyes and said, “Corporal Thomas Barnes - -”

“And,” Zola interrupted, “each soldier who is _not_ who I seek will be killed. Now, I shall ask one last time. Are you one of America’s _super_ soldiers? The ones Abraham Erskine perfected, please? He was a colleague of mine.”

TJ’s jaw ticked in agitation. He narrowed his pale blue eyes, fire lighting them up. He pulled at the bindings again, letting out a growl of frustration when they didn’t so much as budge. “Corporal Thomas Barnes, three two five five seven zero eight five six eight nine nine.”

Sighing, Zola said, “very well. Guards, please bring this man to the medical room to be beaten until he cannot remember his name, rank, and serial number. Then I will have him operated on to discover the answers for myself. Meanwhile, bring me another American to question, who will get the same end result if he is not the super soldier we seek to question.” Arnim Zola turned from TJ dismissively, writing on his clipboard.

A pair of guards in unfamiliar uniforms came into view, apparently from the doorway, and one injected TJ with a strange blue fluid which burned as it entered his neck then bloodstream. They took him from his chains and half-carried, half-dragged him out of the room, down a long hallway past rooms which echoed with machinery and voices, smelled of oil, metal, human waste and sweat, and a mix of burning things. The pair of guards got TJ to their destination, a cold dank cell, round with bars floor to ceiling, in what seemed to be an empty storage room. They hooked him up from a metal hook by his bound wrists. One guard watched carefully as the second finished undressing TJ, ripping or cutting his uniform and underwear away, leaving him barefoot and naked.

“Corporal Thomas Barnes . . . three two five five seven zero eight five six eight nine nine . . .” TJ droned on, thanking whatever God might be listening that it was him in this position and not Bucky. TJ shuddered at the thought of how Bucky would be treated in enemy hands.

“You do not need to do that,” the man simply watching sounded amused. “We do not care what you say or if you even make noises. We will not stop even if you gave us military secrets. Our job is to torture you until you are almost dead so the doctor can open you up and explore to his heart's content. Then we finish killing you. So, feel free to keep or tell your secrets. They matter not.” He nodded and the man holding TJ’s clothing let it drop to the floor and instantly reached out to grab his flaccid cock and tug lightly. “A big boy, is he not?” The man sounded quite interested.

Letting out a growl, TJ kicked out with his left foot, the move still sluggish and slow, but he’d managed to hit the guard’s thigh. “Get your fucking hands off, you dirty Kraut.”

Eyes widening, the barely injured guard let out a burst of laughter. “He thinks we are Germans!” Laughing, his accent holding not a hint of any of the Germanic tongues, the apparently British man snorted. “Oh, this will be fun. Think when this is all done, the Germans will get blamed for this program?” He grabbed TJ’s cock again and pulled harder, letting his nails bite into the flesh as well. “Do not kick me again, you _American_ piece of shite.”

TJ spat at the man, proud that the glob was actually able to make it to the other man’s cheek. TJ’s fingers clenched and tightened around the chains wrapped around his hands as the pain from the other man’s nails dug into his cock. “Fuck off!” TJ snapped, trying to kick again.

The second man chuckled as his partner dealt with avoiding TJ’s weak attacks. “And if you had been _clever_ you could have been exchanging information with the doctor. You see, Corporal, he can be quite chatty about his work for Hydra. You could have, theoretically, learned a great deal, been left alive for your cooperation, and brought back medical secrets for your troop. You are very stupid to let the Americans brainwash you, I think.” This guard sounded more Germanic, like the doctor. “Frederick, stop playing. Either hit him or let me have a chance.”

TJ let out another frustrated growl when he couldn’t seem to get his legs to work right, feeling as helpless as he had with his crippled leg . . . even more helpless, actually.

The man called Frederick growled, “shut up, Yosef. I’ll do this my way. The little prick is going to be screaming in pain as I fuck him where he never dreamed to be fucked.” The man reached for a table on his other side, filled with instruments of every description and unknown purpose. Also on the table sat a healthy amount of blue liquid-filled syringes. “I’ll make you tame while you take it, too, you fuckin’ Yank!”

Taking a breath, TJ brought his leg up again, solidly landing a hit to Frederick’s groin. The hit wasn’t anywhere near as strong as TJ could hit, feeling more like an average man’s hit. “Don’t you fuckin’ touch me!” TJ growled again.

Yosef rolled his eyes as Frederick swore and ducked TJ’s defensive moves. He walked up behind TJ and suddenly carresed a careful, almost gentle, hand down the prisoner’s spine to cup his ass and let his middle finger caress over his anus. “Really, Frederick, you have no finesse. No wonder no man wishes to partner you. You need to ease a partner into such wonders. You said,” he turned his conversation back to TJ, “your name is Thomas, yes?”

A shudder ran down TJ’s strong back, the muscles quivering as Yosef’s gentle hand touched him. It’d been so long since he’d been touched like that . . . so long since he’d felt Tom’s hands on him, that TJ’s cock instantly started to twitch to life, bringing a bright flush to TJ’s cheeks. TJ looked up at his bound hands, pulling and fighting to get free once more, his wrists covered in developing bruises from his previous attempts.

“Ah, you see, Frederick? Like all sensitive men, he responds to gentle suggestion not brute force. I think I shall tend him for now. He is lonely and needy,” Yosef caressed his finger over TJ’s rectum as he leaned in and breathed across the back of TJ’s neck, placing a small nip at the nape then lapping very gently to ease the sting. “You are a beautiful man, Thomas.”

“F - - fuck off . . .” TJ snapped, his voice breathier than he’d ever admit. He couldn’t be getting turned on by this man’s touch. He loved Tom. He was Tom’s husband. Swallowing thickly, TJ bucked and squirmed in his bindings, trying to kick back at Yosef.

With a very soft, amused chuckle, Yosef suddenly took TJ’s hands from the chain above him. He put a hard, deadly pistol to TJ’s temple and, quite softly said, “you will march smartly to the next cell, Thomas. Or you will find out if a _super soldier_ can reheal a traumatic brain injury.”

As soon as his feet hit the floor and his bound hands were removed from the hook, TJ whirled on Yosef, stumbling as his world spun and his legs shook from the weight.

A tall, lean man with auburn hair, neatly trimmed, stood before him, the gun never wavering despite his soft, amused look. He put the barrel directly to TJ’s forehead this time and cocked the hammer. “Will you cooperate now, Thomas?”

TJ swallowed thickly, meeting Yosef’s eyes, hearing his pulse pounding in his ears as he felt the pistol pressed against his forehead. Letting out another breath, TJ turned back around when he saw that Yosef held no hesitation in his eyes: the man would shoot TJ point blank if he didn’t cooperate. Legs shaky and weak, TJ stumbled and shuffled into the next cell.

The broad-shouldered, buffer man with the dirty blond hair and frustrated blue eyes watched in shock. He growled, “if I’d used my gun, he'd have done what I said.”

Yosef replied, “you are much too crude. Go, Frederick. Tend to the next noncompliant American the doctor cannot get answers from. I will deal with Thomas.” Still holding his weapon aimed precisely at TJ, Yosef followed him into the cell, allowing Frederick to lock the door, though he didn’t move away. The auburn-haired guard said, “you will get on the bed, on your knees, and hold your hands out in front of you, Thomas.”

TJ stumbled to the bed, an old, rickety thing with so many stains that TJ didn’t even try to identify. He looked around, trying not to move his head to make it obvious, to see if he could use anything closeby as a weapon against Yosef. The cell contained only the bed, with a very thin mattress, and nothing else: not even an obvious place to relieve himself. With the drugs in his system and his hands bound, TJ doubted he’d be able to overpower the man before Yosef pulled that trigger. Letting out a trembling breath, TJ got onto the bed, which groaned softly, and raised his arms, toned with muscle, straight out in front of him.

Nodding in pleased confirmation, Yosef walked over and, one-handed, easily fastened TJ’s bound wrists to a chain at the head of the bed. He then moved around behind the prisoner for a few seconds, rustling noises coming to TJ’s ears. FInally, he caressed a hand over TJ’s ass, tenderly, and slid a slick finger over TJ’s passage. “You have had a male lover before, I think, yes, Thomas?”

Closing his eyes, a soft whine breaking past his lips, TJ fell back into the mantra he’d been taught, feeling as if that was the only thing left, “Corporal Thomas . . . Barnes . . . three two five five seven zero eight five six eight nine nine . . .”

Not interrupting TJ’s words, Yosef continued to stroke a slicked finger into the prisoner, widening him as gently as if they were real lovers. He slowly, after a couple of minutes, slid his finger out then pushed two into TJ, scissoring and caressing. “You are such a sensitive man, I feel your body respond to my touch. You miss this, crave it. I will enjoy giving this to you.”

Shame rushed through TJ’s body, flushing the back of his neck red as his cock started to fill from the stimulation of Yosef’s fingers. “Corporal Thomas . . . Thomas Barnes . . .” TJ’s fingers yanked on his chain in a pitiful attempt to get free.

Yosef’s answer was to continue with his ministrations, eventually winding up with four slicked fingers gently opening and closing inside the other man’s hot, needy passage. Reaching his free hand around, Yosef began to caress TJ’s cock, smoothing the precum over his head and stroking at his opening. “Such a beautiful man, so responsive, so sweet,” Yosef praised.

“I - - I don’t want this . . .” TJ breathed out, thinking of Tom, his _husband_ out there fighting the war while he was bent over taking the enemy’s fingers up his ass. “I . . . I . . .” TJ attempted another pull at the strong chain and hook once more.

Hand disappearing from TJ’s rectum, the other still massaging and gently squeezing his cock, Yosef laughed softly. “Yes, well, that is why it is call rape, yes?” He slid his well-lubricated cock into TJ in one smooth slide, balls slapping against TJ’s flesh as Yosef bottomed out. “So beautiful and hot for me. Such a sweet man.”

TJ let out a sharp sob, burying his face into the dirty mattress as his cock twitched with interest as Yosef filled him. The muscles around Yosef’s cock quivered and opened easily, proving that the prisoner had, most likely, had a male lover before. TJ shook his head, his fingers splaying out before clenching into tight fists.

“So sweet and needy, Thomas. You have missed your lover. I will continue to rape you until I am ordered to release or kill you.” Yosef began shunting in and out, gentle at first, letting TJ adjust to being filled and fucked. He rested one strong hand on TJ’s hip, holding the prisoner steady as he reached his lubricated fingers around to encircle TJ’s cock and begin stroking, up and down, in time with his fucking cock. “So sweet, Thomas. So ready and needy,” he praised gently as he fucked TJ.

In a last ditch effort to stop the rape, TJ attempted to close his legs to push Yosef off of him, bucking backwards to try and slam the back of his head against Yosef’s face.

It didn’t work as, apparently, Yosef kept his head clear enough to avoid such an assault. Instead, TJ merely succeeded in slamming Yosef’s cock into him hard and deep, balls slapping once more. Yosef let out a low goran and picked up his pace. “Ah, he likes to fight. Good, a feisty lover.” Yosef increased his stroking and tugging on TJ’s cock to match the deeper, harder thrusts into his ass. Unexpectedly, the guard dragged his cock against TJ’s prostate.

TJ yelped and bucked again as that spot inside of him pulsed deep pleasure throughout his body. “Get off me!” TJ screamed, thrashing wildly. He couldn’t let himself cum from this man raping him. How fucked up was he if he came while being raped, while the enemy fucked his ass?

Ignoring the demand, Yosef angled his hips to shunt in and out, over and over striking TJ’s prostate as he tugged and caressed his shaft. Then, letting go TJ’s hip, Yosef reached down to grab his balls and roll them in his warm hand. Whispering in TJ’s ear, Yosef said, “such a good, obedient boy. You will cum for me now, Thomas.”

With another sharp sob, TJ’s cock jerked and he came hard, covering Yosef’s hand and the dirty mattress below him with hot, white semen. TJ’s body seemed to jerk with the force of his orgasm, his muscles tightened like a vise around Yosef’s cock, pulling a loud groan and a hot load of cum deep into TJ’s needy ass. Yosef kissed TJ between the shoulder blades and said, softly, “my good boy. Such a sweet lover.”

The guard slipped from the prisoner’s body and rose off the bed. He tucked himself away and fastened his uniform pants. “Now, if you wish, I can provide the supplies to clean up with. Or I can leave you covered in cum.” He turned a soft smile on TJ.

“And what will the supplies cost me?” TJ croaked, his voice miserable as shame and self-disgust filled his core.

Chuckling, Yoseph said, “as long as you are such a good boy, you will have earned food and cleaning supplies and even a warm blanket. My _lover_ can be well treated until I am ordered to release or _kill_ him. If, however, you’d rather be a martyr, that is your choice. You will be here until the doctor goes through every captured American looking for his super soldier.”

Keeping the small shred of dignity he had left, TJ started to mutter, “Corporal Thomas Barnes . . .” He was a prisoner of war . . . not Yosef’s _lover_. He didn’t deserve better treatment just because he . . . he’d gotten raped.

Nodding, Yosef turned and let himself from the room, leaving TJ chained to the bed by his wrists with such a short chain he couldn't get off the bed much, though he could lay down if he put his hands over his head. “I shall see you soon, Thomas. Enjoy your solitude.”


	18. The Mission That Never Happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: Prisoner of War, AWOL, PTSD, Reference Sexual Assault and Abuse, Dissociation, Drug-induced near coma**

October 23, 1943: 

_“Barnes, the Captain wants to see you,”_ Jacques Dernier said as he walked up to Bucky, speaking in fluent French. _“He said it is important.”_

Glancing at the French Resistance fighter, a civilian aiding the small unit in France, hiding pretty much behind enemy lines since the Germans invaded France, Bucky Barnes offer his friend a smile. Stroking Luna’s soft ears, the American rose to his feet and acknowledged the orders, in equally fluent French. _“Thank you, Jacques. I’ll go see what he wants.”_ Bucky began walking away from the small poker table the American G.I.s had set up, calling over his shoulder, _“I had them on the ropes with a full house, ladies high, Jacques. Collect my winnings will you?”_ Bucky left the tent and headed to his commanding officer’s tent instead, Luna faithfully at his side without even the need for a command. Bucky had become well known over the past four months for the protective husky, the men joking that no enemy could even get near their camp with the very attentive, protective Luna there. Everyone adored the dog.

Inside the cloth tent, behind a makeshift desk, sat Bucky’s commanding officer, Captain Arthur Richmond. Glancing up from his paperwork as Bucky stepped inside, Arthur rose and nodded once in greeting, blue eyes serious, “Sergeant Barnes.”

Since they were inside the tent and away from prying eyes, Bucky saluted the man and offered a smile. “Hello, Captain. How can I help you, Sir?” His hand fell to Luna’s fur, stroking, letting the dog know that the situation was calm.

“There is actually news I want to share with you. And, I am doing this as a courtesy to you, Sergeant,” Arthur sighed and picked up a piece of paper off the desk, passing it over to Bucky, “we just received a coded message.”

Nodding, Bucky scanned the translated message then hesitated. Speaking very softly, seeking clarification for what he couldn’t believe he read, Bucky said, “the Army reports that the 107th Army Infantry was captured in Azzano, Italy at the beginning of this month of October . . . over three hundred men assumed prisoners or deceased. There are to be _no_ rescue attempts?” Bucky looked up at his Captain. “Sir?” his voice choked but he pushed the words out, “why? Why tell me about this?” His mind whirled as he tried to keep calm enough to understand why his baby brother’s unit wouldn’t be rescued.

“I know your brother was in the 107th, Barnes,” Arthur said, face softening with sympathy, “the reason I tell you is so that you know. I don’t believe in keeping unnecessary secrets from my men.” Arthur reached out to place a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Sir,” Bucky cleared his throat at the tight squeak and tried again, “Sir, _no_ rescue effort? For over three hundred men?”

“Azzano is one of the most heavily fortified enemy bases. There would be no way to get to the base without losing more men than we’d rescue,” Arthur shook his head, running a hand over the back of his neck.

Nodding, Bucky straightened and said, “and where are the prisoners supposed to be stored, Sir? Any chance some of them might escape? They have a super soldier with them.”

Arthur didn’t say that TJ had probably been one of the first killed if he hadn’t made it back to base by then. “No one has managed to get close enough to map out the base, Sergeant, every time we try to fly planes overhead, we get shot down. We don’t even have a clear map. I am sorry.” 

“Are they held in the base or nearby? Outside in the weather or in a structure of some kind?” Bucky fired more questions at his commanding officer.

Frowning a bit, Arthur shook his head, “we have reason to believe they are being held in the base, but, as I said, Sergeant, we haven’t been able to get good surveillance on the base.”

Nodding, intelligent mind hurrying through ideas and plans, Bucky asked, “may I be dismissed, sir?”

Arthur nodded once, “dismissed, Sergeant Barnes.”

Saluting, Bucky sharply, professionally called out, “Sir, thank you, Sir.” He turned on his heel smartly and strode out, Luna his ever faithful shadow. Quickly making it back to the poker game, Bucky spoke in rapid French, a language he knew his commanding officer didn’t understand. _“Everyone, the 107th has been captured and we are to wait for further orders. You are to keep this to ourselves so as not to mess up any rescue attempts made by our allies. Understood?”_

Everyone at the table, including Dernier, looked up at Bucky with expressions of anger and surprise. All of them nodded, agreeing to Bucky’s terms.

_“Good, now, I need to recruit volunteers and only volunteers. I am leading the rescue mission, but I can guarantee by going off to Italy from here in France, the volunteers will be either killed or . . . court-martialed.”_ He met each man’s eyes in turn. _“This is not a heroic mission. My brother is among the missing, and I am going AWOL.”_

No soldier volunteered, as Bucky had expected. Turning with a nod, he said, _“all I ask is you wait until dawn to report me, gentlemen.”_ He left the tent.

As Bucky walked away, sudden footsteps came up right next to the Sergeant, Dernier meeting Bucky’s stride with ease. “I will help,” Dernier said in heavily accented English.

Putting a hand on the French civilian’s shoulder, Bucky grinned. _“I couldn’t ask for a better man or bomber,”_ he replied, in perfect French. _“We pack light and move out fast. I need to get there as soon as possible. If my brother is among them and they haven’t escaped yet, either TJ was killed or is incapacitated and needs me.”_ He headed into his private tent to grab his ready bag, never unpacking during their time in France in case they had to move quickly. He turned and looked over Dernier. _“How long do you need, my friend?”_

While Bucky had grabbed his things, it appeared Dernier had snuck away to do so as well. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Dernier replied, in French, _“I am ready, my friend.”_

_“God, I have the best damn backup on this mission,”_ Bucky chuckled very softly. The Army sniper clapped the civilian bomber on the shoulder and headed out of his tent and into the darkness, knowing he’d have to find transportation quickly.

**************

November 3, 1943:

Steve sighed softly, sitting hunched over himself, sitting on the steps as the sounds of the busy base and rain falling went on around him. For months, he’d been toured around America for top military officials to ogle at as Colonel Philips tried to get more funding for the super soldier project. However, with Doctor Erskine dead, everyone felt pretty wary about attempting the serum again.

Letting out another breath, Steve continued his doodle, a monkey on a unicycle balancing on a tightrope. He missed Bucky. They hadn’t been able to write much over the last few months, only two letters between them. Steve felt awful that he’d been sleeping in warm beds and having good meals while Bucky, Tom, and TJ all were out actually _fighting_.

“You’re an artist?” The clipped British tones of Agent Margaret _‘Peggy’_ Carter came from behind Steve, heard despite the steady drone of the falling rain beyond the tent. “Is that supposed to be a doodle or a self-portrait?”

Blinking, looking up at the beautiful woman and then back down at the drawing, Steve let out a sigh. He lifted his eyes once more and frowned softly when he saw a truck pull up in front of a tent across the way. Men hurried out carrying a gurney, a soldier writhing in pain on top of it, “these men have been through hell . . .”

“That’s what’s left of the 107,” she sighed, also looking over. “They were hit hard three weeks ago and most of them killed or taken prisoner. These were found by a passing scouting party and our side managed to get them transport. But any of the others . . .” she sighed and looked back at Steve, her eyes sympathetic and frustrated.

“Wait,” Steve paled, shooting to his feet, “the _107th_?” The was the unit TJ was with! Did Bucky know? “They are planning a rescue mission, right?”

“I don’t know if anyone else was informed, Captain . . . Steve. And, there’s no rescue mission planned. They’re too deep in enemy territory, and the Colonel has said the casualties would negate the amount rescued.” Peggy turned to look over the ambulances discharging less than twenty men.

“So, they are just going to let those men be tortured and die?” Steve shook his head, turning to hurry in the direction of Colonial Philips’ tent, not checking to see if Peggy followed or not. Steve didn’t even wait for permission before entering the tent. “Colonial, I need the causality list for the 107th.” Steve said, not caring that he gave a superior officer orders.

“I’ve seen it,” the Colonel said in a neutral tone, not even looking up from a stack of letters he signed. “Thank you for the reminder, Captain.”

“Corporal Barnes . . . was he on that list, Sir?” Steve asked, watching the older man intently, his hands clenching into fists by his sides.

Glancing up, the Colonel sighed and shook his head. “Corporal Barnes is not listed as a casualty.” He signed another letter.

“Missing, then?” Steve practically growled.

With another, more forceful sigh, Phillips raised his head and narrowed his eyes at Steve. “I am in the process of sending letters to the waiting families informing them of their tragic losses. This is important work, Captain, even if it seems not.”

“All I need to know is the status of Corporal Barnes, Colonel,” Steve insisted, straightening his broad shoulders. It was obvious he was not going to leave until he got the answers he wanted.

Shaking his head, not bothering to stand or even look up, Colonel Philips said, “the 107th was captured thirty miles into the Alps. Rumors have it that any prisoners were taken to a munitions factory even deeper behind enemy lines. Corporal Barnes was not one of the men who returned, and it is assumed he was not killed due to his enhanced systems. The Brass think he was taken as a prisoner to study, Captain. Also,” Phillips looked up and met Steve’s eyes, tone firming, “it is felt that any rescue mission would be too costly. The Brass feel that if the Corporal has survived, he has the physical capabilities to rescue the men without outside aid.”

Shaking his head, anger and disgust welling up inside of him, Steve asked, “has Sergeant Barnes been informed of his brother’s status, Sir?” Steve’s mind already raced, thinking over how he could get to Azzano and free the three hundred men imprisoned.

“As far as I’ve been told, way over here in Italy not France where Sergeant Barnes is stationed, the Brass ordered that Sergeant Barnes not be informed of his brother’s status.” Philips met his eyes. “War, Captain. Personal feelings don’t come into play.”

Steve shook his head, turning on his heel, not even giving the Colonel a formal goodbye, and strode out of the tent. He couldn’t leave all those men, _TJ_ , to be tortured and killed. Steve had to do something. Steve headed into his own tent, grabbing a helmet and shield that the Army had given to him. They said they wanted Steve to look the part, to be the _shield_ of America. Steve thought the entire thing was stupid, but he had to admit a shield may come in handy where he was going. Once he’d grabbed his things, Steve walked over to a Jeep, putting his shield in the back. He’d get TJ out, even if he had to go by himself.

Peggy slid into the passenger seat of the jeep and said, almost casually, “you’re stealing my jeep, Captain.”

Looking over at Peggy with a soft frown, Steve said, “I have to rescue those men, Agent Carter.”

“You aren’t cleared to drive a jeep off this base,” Peggy retorted, still calmly. “Do you plan on hotwiring this?”

“I was,” Steve replied honestly, “but if you want to give me the keys, it’d save valuable time.”

“I can’t give you the keys,” Peggy said. She looked at Steve, “and if you’ll let me have my jeep, I need to do a supply run. You’re welcome to come along.”

Steve watched Peggy for a few moments, still frowning softly, before he nodded, hoping he wasn’t reading this situation wrong. He slipped out of the driver’s seat and Peggy shifted over to the driver’s seat. “I can use your strength getting my supplies. We’ll be meeting with Mr. Stark at the airfield.”

_The airfield_. Steve let out a sigh of relief, hopping into the passenger seat. Being flown in would definitely save time. “I’ll be happy to assist, Agent Carter.”

Nodding, she started the vehicle and drove, rather rapidly, off the makeshift base and over the rough trails towards the airfield Howard Stark used to bring in medical and experimental military gear he worked on. It took less than twenty minutes for the pair to arrive, a second jeep already parked on that dirt tarmac.

Peggy frowned and slid from her vehicle. “It looks like he might have company. I wonder if we’ll be able to get an introduction.” Glancing at Steve, she added, “he didn’t say he’d have company.”

Grabbing his shield, a red, white, and blue design that really wasn’t practical for a warzone, Steve nodded and walked alongside Peggy towards the plane. Blinking in shock once he saw the familiar form of his husband, Steve called, “Buck?”

Whirling around, Bucky looked surprised then delighted, though something about him spoke grim determination. “Stevie! I need help. TJ’s a prisoner. He’s considered dead because he didn’t escape. It’s been _three_ damn weeks!”

Nodding, Steve gave Bucky a quick hug in greeting, enjoying the feeling of his husband in his strong arms once more. “I know. I was heading to Azzano to get him and the men out. Looks like we could both use each other’s help, huh?” Steve glanced over and nodded to an unfamiliar man helping Howard load things into the plane.

“They told me no one was being sent!” Bucky looked surprised. “I had to come without military backup.”

“No one _is_ being sent, Buck. The cost is too much for the reward, they said,” Steve shook his head in anger, “so, I was gonna go on my own.”

“There’s three of us,” Bucky said, sounding grim. “You, me, and Jacques, a civilian from the French Resistance. He’s an expert with explosives and a damn fine shot.” Bucky gestured towards the stranger. _“Dernier!”_ he called in French, _“this is my best friend, Steve Rogers. I told you, he’s an artist!”_

_“Ah! The_ Stevie _you won’t shut up about!”_ Dernier called back in French, hurrying up and offering a hand to Steve, who shook it with a surprised look in his eyes.

“Dernier speaks very little English, Steve, but he’s got a heart as big as Europe.” Turning to Dernier, Bucky switched back to French. _“He’s our backup. Is Stark ready?”_ Luna gave a soft, muffled sounding woof.

_“Just waiting on you. Says he wants to save his little brother already,”_ Dernier replied with a smile.

“His _little brother_?” Bucky chuckled. _“Fine, I don’t mind Howard Stark for a brother. Let’s board.”_ Grinning at Steve, Bucky said, “we’re ready, _Captain_.”

**************

November 4, 1943:

The plane rocked as a loud explosion sounded off too close for comfort. Steve buckled the strap of his helmet under his chin and called to Peggy, “it’s too dangerous to land, Agent!” Steve reached for one of the parachutes.

She shook her head, “we should circle again or look for a clear area a little further up, Steve. It’s too dangerous to jump here. You’ll be a target the entire way down!”

Bucky strapped on his own parachute and instructed Dernier, in French, _“You will set off a diversion? And a way to destroy that whole damn place once we get TJ and the others out?”_

Dernier, reaching for his own parachute and strapping it on, nodded and confirmed, _“yes. I will give you twenty minutes and then I’m blowing the building.”_

_“Agreed,”_ Bucky reluctantly nodded. “Stevie, we’ll have twenty minutes from landing to get anyone out. Otherwise, they’ll be KIA . . . even Teej.”

Looking between Bucky and Dernier, Steve nodded once, “okay. Then, let’s make this quick.” He opened the door to the plane and looked over at Bucky again, “we’ll get him out, Buck.” Steve looked down, the dark forest far below him. “Til the end of the line, right?” Steve offered Bucky a smile before jumping out of the plane.

“Just not a short line, okay?” Bucky replied. He jumped after his husband, concentrating on guiding his chute among the trees, not getting tangled in the unorthodox jump, at least. Bucky instantly unhooked the chute and left the gear where it was, pulling his rifle from his back and taking off at a run towards the compound. He couldn’t afford time to look for Steve or Jacques. Twenty minutes counted down in his head, second by second.

While Jacques readied the explosives, Steve took off after Bucky, heading towards the compound. Grabbing Bucky’s arm to pull him back into the treeline, Steve gestured to the line of trucks coming their way. Waiting until the last one drove by, Steve ran after it, catching up with it easily and hopping inside, hoping Bucky had followed.

Not saying a word, Bucky ran after his husband and slipped into the truck rear. He pulled a knife from a boot and stabbed one of the two soldiers in the throat, wondering just what uniform the soldiers wore, who they worked for; they didn’t look familiar. Steve helped take out the other soldier in the back of the truck with ease.

Pulling Bucky behind him as the truck slowed and then started backing up, Steve hid both of them behind the shield he carried and waited. He looked over his shoulder at Bucky, meeting his husband’s eyes and sharing a look before looking back over at the opening of the transport truck. He waited until the flap opened before lurching forward, slamming the shield into the unsuspecting soldier, making the man fly backwards without a single noise. Glancing back at Bucky once more, Steve nodded and stepped out of the truck, into the heavily guarded facility.

Following without protest, Bucky slipped into the compound behind his husband and tapped Steve’s shoulder. Whispering, he said, “you check the main room. I’ll go further in.” Slipping his knife back into his boot, the brunet hurried ahead without gaining permission.

Heading further into the factory building, Bucky shook his head once at the images of the captured soldiers and civilians being forced into hard slave labor. He opened every door he passed, letting the door swing open enough to see if TJ was inside before moving on, not even speaking to anyone kept in the individual cell-like rooms which had once been storage closets or private offices. As he encountered enemy soldiers, Bucky used his hard earned military training to knife a throat or snap a neck, ignoring the human cost as he continued to search for the one man who meant as much to him as his beloved husband.

As Bucky made it to the end of the long line of individual cells, a very soft voice started to get clearer and clearer with each step Bucky took. “Barnes . . . three two five five seven zero three eight five six eight nine nine . . . Corporal . . . Thomas . . . Barnes . . . three two five five seven zero three eight five six eight nine nine . . .”

Continuing to open doors, though he felt sure where the voice came from, Bucky finally reached the last room down the hall. _‘Figures,’_ he thought. Bucky tried to open the door and found it locked. So, the mysterious soldiers knew the value of the prisoner inside. Bucky knelt and began picking the lock, frowning as he knew he’d not make Dernier’s timeline. Standing, Bucky raised his rifle and brought the butt down hard on the knob twice, dislodging it. Opening the door, shock and nausea threatened to overwhelm him.

Bucky rushed in, eyes locked on the sight of his baby brother laying on a dirty bed, arms chained together at the wrists and stretched above his head towards the wall. Bruised and covered with numerous fluids, some human waste, others blood, pus, and even semen, TJ had no clothing on at all. Bucky hurried over to the teenager, the sound of his brother’s words breaking his heart when combined with his condition.

“Corporal . . . Thomas . . . Barnes . . . three two five five seven zero three eight five six eight nine nine . . .” TJ continued to repeat over and over again, his pale eyes not focused on any single thing.

“Sergeant James Barnes,” Bucky spoke in his brother’s ear, reciting his own service number. “Here to rescue you. C’mon, Teej. I’m getting you outta this hell hole.” Bucky gripped the chains and yanked them, hard, from the wall, easily breaking the crumbling concrete since _he_ wasn’t drugged, starved, and near breaking.

“Buck?” TJ rasped, his head lolling to look at his brother. Once Bucky got close enough, he could see the semen streaking the inside of TJ’s thighs, mixed with some sort of blue colored lubricant. “Buck? Ya . . . ya really here? Not gonna fade?”

“Not fading this time. Let’s get outta here. My team has this place rigged to blow up, and I don’t want to be inside when it comes down.” Bucky sat his brother up, knowing he couldn’t cater to pain until they'd left. He began helping the nude teenager off the bed on shaking legs.

Sounds of footsteps pounding against the floor outside of the cell came to the brothers and then Steve appeared at the opened doorway. “Buck? Oh . . . oh my God,” Steve breathed out when he saw TJ’s condition.

“Yeah, and he can’t walk, can’t even stand, doll. We gotta carry him out.” Bucky took off his uniform jacket and thrust it over TJ’s back, buttoning it quickly, even though it trapped TJ’s arms inside. He then literally hefted his brother onto his back in a sort of piggyback position. “Just like old times, eh, baby?”

TJ’s head fell onto Bucky’s shoulder, his voice soft and shaky as he started muttering, “Corporal . . . Thomas . . . Barnes . . .”

“Let’s go, Steve. You shield and guard us. We’ll get him outside.” Bucky was thankful he’d left Luna on Stark’s plane, unable to figure a way the husky could safely parachute any way.

Steve nodded, leading Bucky and TJ out of the cell just as the building rocked with the force of a large explosion. “Damn!” Steve cursed, “c’mon, Buck!” Steve glanced behind him for only a moment before looking straight ahead. Another explosion caused Steve to stumble as the building around them shook.

Not sparing breath for talking or even grunting, Bucky hefted his brother higher on his back and ran behind his lover, concentrating on dodging debris and avoiding hazards underfoot. He concentrated on keeping his energy level so he could carry his weakened brother the entire way.

Finally, they made it out of the building just as the largest explosion brought the roof down, the force of the explosion making Steve stumble to his knees though he quickly regained his footing. Bucky stumbled, dropped his brother, and turned to scoop him up, bridal style, to continue their escape. Once they were a safer distance away, Steve turned to look at Bucky and TJ, blue eyes worried, “how is he?” The large blond looked over the dirty, bruised, mumbling teen in Bucky’s arms.

“Not good, delirious and smells of bad infection. If he wasn’t one of us, he’d have probably died within the first few days.” Bucky looked at the crowd of mixed refugees rescued by Steve while he’d been concentrating on TJ, not really thinking about the private cells he’d opened so the inhabitants could escape as well. “Maybe four hundred?” he asked.

Looking around, Steve let out a breath and nodded, “about that . . .” He glanced back at Bucky.

Nodding, used to commanding enlisted on behalf of commissioned officers, Bucky barked out, “those who can help those who can’t. We’re walking outta here, men! Move out!” He noticed a large red head wearing, of all things, a bowler hat striding next to a trim dark-skinned soldier in American uniform. Both men headed right for Bucky and Steve, followed by a small Asian man, also in American uniform, and a tall, stiffly held British-uniformed man.

The red-haired man looked at the bundle in Bucky’s arms and swore under his breath, “well, Jones, he’s alive . . .” 

“Damn,” Gabe looked from the barely conscious, dazed TJ to the man who carried him. “This must be big brother?”

“I’d say,” Dum Dum agreed with a nod, “TJ was in our unit . . . we were all taken . . . but we hadn’t seen him since our capture. Name’s Dum Dum Dugan. Your brother has saved my hide more times than I can count.”

Nodding, the brunet responded, “Bucky Barnes. This is Steve Rogers. I’m glad we could find you lot.” He walked behind the mass of rescued men. “This is Dernier, my ally in this rescue.” Meeting Dum Dum’s then Gabe’s eyes, Bucky said, “and, yeah, we’re it. We went AWOL to get you out. So, once we get to ally land, you might be watching the biggest court martial in history.”

“I am Major James Falsworth. I am the last of my unit, Barnes. None of the others survived. I can assure you that I will put in a recommendation against the court martial. Many of these men are the last of their units, and I understand the bulk are from one unit together.”

“The 107th,” Steve confirmed with a nod, walking alongside the group of men.

Bucky turned a grateful look on the British officer, “thank you, Sir. We appreciate it.” He sighed and looked over the small Asian-looking man. “Army Ranger?” he asked, seeing the patch on his sleeve.

The man looked up at Bucky and nodded once, “yeah, Jim Morita. Last guy standin’ from my unit,” he shook his head and frowned softly, “thanks for the rescue.” He looked at TJ, who seemed to be fading in and out of consciousness in Bucky’s arms, head laid up against Bucky’s shoulder. “You should clean up that guy’s wounds as soon as you can.”

“My baby brother, TJ,” Bucky said, hefting him closer, “and we’re going to have to get further away from that slagheap before we can take the chance.” He sounded determined, though worried.

Morita nodded once, eying the fluids on TJ’s skin, on the teen’s legs that were completely bare since Bucky’s jacket could only cover up so much. Without another word, Mortia slipped out of his own jacket and wrapped it around TJ’s legs.

James Falsworth sighed as he watched, walking steadily in the darkened forest. “He was one of the first taken to interrogation. For each day we were there, another American was taken back to the doctor to be interrogated. None returned. We thought them all killed.”

Steve nodded, glancing at TJ in Bucky’s arms and then back at Falsworth, “how long were you held there?” Steve knew the 107th had been held for just over one month; he wondered if that factory had been running on prisoner labor for longer than that.

“Two months three days,” Falsworth answered instantly. “All of my unit wound up in the factory. Due to my rank, I was held out. I was scheduled to go to interrogation tomorrow morning. They delighted in informing me to heighten the anticipation.” The British officer looked at Steve. “You saved every man - - men who would have died within the week, Captain Rogers. And there was a rumor that another unit would be taken down with that tank they have. A monster that emits a blue beam and disintegrates men faster than strong acid.”

“We have that _monster_ now!” Dum Dum finally grinned, looking ahead of them where they could see one of the large tanks rolling with the large mass of men walking. They had managed to take it when they fought their way out of the facility.

A grim smile crossed the Major’s face and he nodded. “Good. That will give our side an advantage over them. I do not know how many more of those tanks or rifles they have, but it is a weaponry I never dreamed possible.”

Bucky said, “we have some of those rifles, too. Stark could take ‘em apart and figure them out easy.”

The large group of soldiers walked for hours through the cold until finally Steve called out for everyone to stop; they needed to rest. The men helped Steve’s order get to the front, also carrying the order that they’d only be stopping for a few hours, just enough time to get some rest. Steve looked over at Bucky and frowned softly, seeing that TJ had barely stirred at all, still draped in Bucky’s and Mortia’s jackets.

Bucky sank to the ground near the big tank, letting the bulk of the great weapon take the brunt of the wind, shielding his injured, weakened brother. Laying TJ on the ground, Bucky began to melt snow in his hands and wash off TJ’s body, checking his injuries.

When Bucky removed the jackets to get to the injuries underneath, TJ’s eyes cracked open and he started murmuring, “Corporal Thomas Barnes . . .”

Nodding, Bucky said, “good, baby, you’re still alive. Worried for a moment. Gonna get you all washed up now, Teej.” He continued working, not trying to break his brother’s daze yet, too busy trying to fight the infection.

“Hey! Fellas!” Dum Dum called out to the surrounding men, “anyone got spare clothes? Pass ‘em up!” He didn’t say _why_ they needed to clothes but Dum Dum figured they’d be able to get most of an outfit from the surviving group.

Climbing into the tank, Gabe came back only minutes later with the trousers and underwear of the dead soldier inside. He said, “relatively cleaner than he is right now, I figure? The shirt is a lost cause, though.”

Steve nodded, taking the clothes from Gabe with a grateful smile; “Thanks,” he said before kneeling down next to Bucky. “Why isn’t his serum healing as fast as it should?” Steve whispered.

“Steve, his entire body is riddled with infection. It _is_ healing on max. Just has a hell of a lot of work to get through. If he was _normal_ he’d have died a thousand times over by now.” Bucky finished cleaning up his brother’s crotch and moved to his ass, clenching his teeth as he gingerly reached in to scoop out the fluids still inside.

Shaking his head, TJ whined and scrambled away, or at least attempted to. “Corporal . . . Thomas . . . Barnes . . .” He tried to closed his legs, too lost in his drug and trauma haze to realize it wasn’t Yosef.

“Hold him, Steve. There’s pus and blood and other shit up there, some of that damn blue goo, cum, I don’t know what else. He needs cleaning out! Damn assholes must’ve raped him over and over!”

Steve reached down, making sure to keep the clothes balanced on his lap to keep them off the ground, and held TJ down as Bucky continued to clean TJ out. The seventeen year old struggled weakly, legs kicking out, “stop! Fuck . . . off!” TJ bit out.

Bucky answered, “not interested, Baby. Just cleaning up this mess so you can heal. Gotta get you walking before we get you back to America, right?” He finished, and used water from a canteen someone passed over to wash out TJ one last time. Nodding, he used his own shirt to dry his brother’s privates before telling Steve, “give him the clothes, Stevie. It’s the best I can do.” Looking over his shoulder, he ordered Gabe, “If those boots on the dead Nazi are size ten, we’ll take ‘em here. Ten or bigger.”

Nodding, Steve let go of TJ to help the teen into clothes, TJ falling back into the confused murmurs of his rank, name, and serial number.

“Gonna kill those Nazi bastards,” Dum Dum murmured, shaking his head.

“Not Nazi this time,” Falsworth said on a grim sigh. “Hydra. They called themselves Hydra and one of their scientists are American. They have people from both sides: British, Russian, Swiss, German, all walks of life and beliefs. A new enemy no one looked for.”

“Well, I’ll kill ‘em, too! He’s just a fuckin’ kid,” Dum Dum growled, venom in his tones.

“Seventeen this past August,” Bucky murmured softly. “I never got to celebrate his birthday with him. I’m supposed to be in France on a scouting mission.”

Morita cursed, shaking his head, “should be home studyin’ at school or somethin’ . . .”

“Piano,” Bucky looked up. “My brother is a piano prodigy. He was playing Mozart by the age twelve.” He looked down and softly stroked his brother’s dirty, tangled curls. “My poor baby. No one should be raped. I’m glad they blew up. I hope we got most of ours out?”

“From the looks of it?” Dum Dum looked around and nodded, “I’d say you fellas did a fine job.”

Dernier came up behind Bucky and tapped his shoulder, _“you need to get some rest,_ Barnes. _You have not slept since you got the news.”_

Nodding, Bucky squeezed Dernier’s shoulder lightly. _“Yes, I will sleep now. We move out in four horus. You rest, too.”_ Bucky then lay down in the dirt next to TJ and wrapped his arms around his brother, whispering, “you’re safe now, Teej. Bucky’s got you.” He longed to hold Steve, but TJ needed him so desperately.

TJ finally fell silent once more, curling his too-thin body around Bucky, his head falling to Bucky’s chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, “please don’t fade away.”

“You’re safe now, Baby. Ain’t nobody fading away. Sleep. I’ll wake you up when we need to move out. From now on, we either serve together or we go into hiding.” Bucky stroked his brother’s hair and nuzzled the back of his neck. “Sleep, baby.”

Steve leaned up against the tank, slipping right next to Bucky and wrapping his arm around the brunet’s shoulders. To anyone, it would appear that Steve was just giving his friend a softer spot to lay his head. 

Bucky took the offer, laying his head on his husband’s shoulder. “Thanks, Stevie. Get some rest.” He closed his eyes, still holding TJ while leaning into Steve, sandwiched between the two men he loved most.

**************

November 5, 1943:

By late afternoon, the group of four hundred soldiers walked into the camp, all exhausted and in various states of injury. Steve, walking beside Bucky, strode right up to Colonial Philips and said, “I am handing myself over for discipline, Sir,” as the soldiers everyone else had given up on walked around them.

Carrying his brother, Bucky stepped up beside Steve and added his voice. “I am giving myself up for discipline, Sir. James Barnes, Sergeant.”

Colonel Philips frowned and looked over the men who trailed past them to get to food, fresh water, clean clothing, and medical attention. “Captain Rogers, how many men are there in this unit you’ve brought in?”

“We estimate about four hundred, Sir, there were more than just the remaining 107th,” Steve answered, shoulders back, chin up.

“Major Falsworth, sole survivor of His Majesty’s 3rd Independent Parachute Brigade, sir.” The British major saluted the American Colonel. “We have captured a tank and several rifles, all of advanced weapon construction from the enemy, a group calling themselves Hydra.”

Philips stiffened and growled, “Hydra?” He turned his eyes back to Steve and murmured, “Erskine’s murderer. Captain,” he raised his voice, “take these men to get the proper hero’s care they deserve. Get Corporal Barnes into immediate medical attention, top priority, and Sergeant Barnes will stay with him until I decide how to handle his . . . personal mission.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Steve didn’t salute Philips since they were out in the open, but he did give him a nod of thanks. Steve looked at Bucky and then down to TJ, who still slightly dozed in Bucky’s arms, due to the last remainder of the drugs still in TJ’s system. Steve gently clapped Dernier on the shoulder as he started to lead Bucky to the medical tent. Once inside, Steve found the nearest nurse and told her, “we have a severely injured man, top priority, Colonel’s orders, ma’am.”

Jumping into action, the nurse called over a doctor Steve knew and had learned to trust. The pair began working on TJ, first bathing him completely, behind a temporary screen, and then assessing and dressing his wounds, opening some which needed draining before stitching them shut once more. Neither protested Bucky sitting within the confines, out of the way but watching.

Peggy grabbed Steve’s arm to pull him back out of the medical area then hugged him. “When none of you answered, we weren’t sure what happened . . . then the explosion. Do you know that crazy dog tried to jump off the plane behind your friend? I had to hold him back by throwing myself over him!”

Steve pulled out the communications device that Peggy had given him and showed her the destroyed device which looked to have taken a bullet. “I couldn’t call my ride? Besides, I don’t think Stark’s plane could fit four hundred men . . .” Steve sighed and nodded, “yeah, Luna is the bravest, most loyal dog I’ve ever met.”

“Colonel Philips is on the radio trying to argue for your Sergeant’s freedom, trying to get his Captain Richmond to rescind court martial orders.” Peggy glanced towards the medical tent. “You found the brother?” she sounded like she didn’t dare breathe.

“What was left of him,” Steve sighed softly, glancing towards the tent with a frown.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry, Steve,” Peggy shook her head. “He’ll be buried with full honors.”

Blinking, Steve snapped his attention back to Peggy and said, “oh, God, that sounded wrong. TJ . . . he’s alive, Agent. I’m . . . do you mind if I ask something . . . personal?” Steve flushed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Then come into my tent. We won’t be listened to while I give you a celebratory drink, Captain.” Peggy turned to lead Steve into the private tent she, as the sole female not part of the nursing staff, had been assigned.

Following Peggy to her tent, Steve waiting until they were closed in before saying, straight to the point like he’d always been, “TJ was raped. Multiple times from the looks of it.”

Nodding, Peggy met the blond’s eyes. “That is a very severe trauma most men won’t want to live through. I can tell the medical staff to monitor for suicidal thoughts?”

Steve paled a bit and he murmured, “do you really think TJ would try to kill himself because of it?”

“Steve, many men feel like they’ve had their manhood removed if they are raped.” Peggy tilted her head. “How would _you_ feel?”

Sighing softly, Steve nodded and said, running a large hand through his hair, “I don’t know? I wanted to ask your help. What is the best way to help . . . a victim of that type of abuse?”

“He needs to be with people who don’t judge him, who encourage him and reassure him that he is still a man and a person worth loving. He would do best if loved ones can give this support. Does he have a girl back home who would be constant enough to support him, despite this? Many people feel rape is the victim’s fault, though I seriously doubt anyone ever asked to be raped.” Peggy looked disgusted at the unfairness of society against victims.

Groaning softly, for the first time thinking of Tom, who’d been shipped all the way to Spain, Steve responded, “he has . . . someone that he loves but . . . they aren’t home in the states, right now.”

“So mail will be at the least, difficult. Then TJ will need you and Bucky to help him, support him. Not to treat him with disgust or derision. Can you honestly look him in the eye and reassure him that he’s not less of a man for what happened to him?” The woman sank down into a camp chair, finally pouring a drink from a glass bottle into a small shot glass. She offered the drink to Steve and poured whiskey for herself.

“Of course!” Steve confirmed with a nod, taking the drink despite alcohol no longer having any effects on him since he’d gotten the serum. “TJ is probably the bravest kid I know. I’ve known him since he was five. What he’d gone though? I think most people would have given up by now.”

Peggy sipped her shot of whiskey instead of downing it straight. “I think you’re right. Not just because of the serum, either. Your TJ is a very brave, strong boy . . . man. With love and support, he will pull through. But he has to be reassured that his family and loved ones won’t reject him for being raped like this.”

“Peggy . . . when Bucky cleaned out TJ’s . . . rectum once we’d stopped for rest,” Steve blew out a breath before continuing, “there was some bright blue . . . goo or something inside of TJ. Have you heard anything about it?”

“Not yet, but bring it up to the medical staff. They might know better what types of medicines or even . . . lubricants are out there. If this man who held TJ was raping him, it’s possible he used the goo as a lubricant to ease penetration, Steve. I know it’s difficult to discuss, but men don’t free lubricate like women. If we had a sample, we could figure it out.”

Flushing, not telling Peggy he knew all too well how to have sex with a man, Steve said, “I can go to the medical tent to see if they could possibly still retrieve a sample? I know they were still cleaning him when we left.”

“Do that now and get the sample to Howard. He won’t be shocked where it came from, so feel free to tell him the truth. The more he knows, the better he can analyze it.” Peggy stood and took the shot glass from Steve’s hand. “You’re calm, accepting reaction will go a long way to soothing TJ that he is still a real man despite the anal rapes, Steve. Surround him with like-minded people.”

“Thank you, Peggy,” Steve nodded, giving her a small smile before hurrying from the tent, back to the medical area. Steve quickly found the doctor that had been caring for TJ, “have you fully cleaned Corporal Barnes rectally, Doctor?” Steve kept his voice very low.

The doctor nodded and turned to retrieve a vial of mixed fluids, among them a blue colored goo mixed in. “This is what we got, Captain. Whoever cleaned him out before he came to us did a good job.”

Nodding, Steve took the vial of blue goo and looked it over before passing it back, “have you ever seen something similar on POW’s before, Doctor?”

“Not at all. I was thinking on sending the sample to Stark. He might be able to separate everything to figure out what’s there. Once we got this out, though, the Corporal opened his eyes and asked for food before falling back asleep. I think there’s an anesthetic in there.” The doctor sighed and looked at the vial in his hand.

“He didn’t get upset when you cleaned him?” Steve asked, glancing to the closed off section of the medical tent where TJ and Bucky were.

“He was unconscious the entire time, actually. Didn’t make a peep. Thought he was near death myself until he spoke,” the doctor answered. “He’s breathing stronger now.”

Sighing, Steve nodded and said, “thank you, Doctor. Send those samples to Stark right away so we can figure out what exactly they gave him.” Steve slipped past the doctor and rapped his knuckles against the divider to announce his approach.

“Come in,” Bucky’s tired, yet pleased, voice answered. He sat, stroking his brothers freshly cleaned, still damp curls.

Walking closer, Steve looked over TJ, sleeping on the cot, and then over at Bucky, “Hey, Buck . . . how’s he doin’?”

Bucky smiled up at his husband, studying him now that the emergencies had ended. Softly, he said, “sleeping normally. The doctor said they pulled out some odd drugs from him right before he woke up and actually spoke.” Bucky stroked TJ’s hair, eyes lighting up as he heard a friendly woof. Luna charged past the medical staff and directly to his master's side, nuzzling at TJ’s free hand, not the one with the IV in it. The husky lapped at the fingers enthusiastically. Bucky laughed softly.

“We’re sending the samples to Stark to see what may have been in the cocktail. It must have been strong to keep TJ down,” Steve reached out to stroke Bucky’s face quickly before letting the hand drop away. “I’m glad to hear he slept through the cleaning . . .”

“Yeah. I think whoever tortured him,” Bucky deliberately avoided the word rape, which to him was a one off event not a daily occurrence, “might have used some kind of knock out drug to lubricate him, the nurse said. The doctor thinks she’s right. They’re very sympathetic to Teej, Steve. Not like some men I know would be.” Bucky turned grateful eyes on Steve. “Most people wouldn’t understand TJ didn’t want this torture. Didn’t ask for it.”

Softly, looking at TJ and then back at Bucky, Steve asked, “do you think we should ask for Tom to be transferred? I don’t know if they’d allow it but . . .”

“We’d have to give a damn good reason, Steve. They’d be more inclined to leave him with me than bring in a best friend, you know?” Bucky sighed and met his husband’s eyes. “They wouldn’t understand.”

Shaking his head, Steve let out a breath and looked to TJ again, “he looks peaceful . . .”

Bucky smiled and nodded. “I think he’ll sleep the clock around now he’s sleeping and not knocked out.


End file.
